An Enlightened Universe
by TheButterflyComposer
Summary: The Wizarding world is crumbling, even after the events at Godric's Hollow. Dark forces lurk in the shadows, the Muggles are clawing at the gates and it's about to get a whole lot worse. Fortunately for us, our heroes aren't idiots. Welcome to the Enlightened Universe. Harry Potter and his friends, as you've never seen them before. Rated M for second year onwards.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created. **

**An Enlightened Universe, a Harry Potter story.**

Prologue

The golden leaves lay trodden into the pavement as the glow of the sun left the quiet Privet Drive. It had been, for the most part, an ordinary day in Surrey. There was the usual annoyance of traffic jams, late postmen and the weather was definitely turning colder; conversations in the street grew shorter as people rushed back into the refuges of a warm home or a tepid work.

For Mr Dursley of N.O 4 Privet Drive however, it had been and would prove to be one of the worst days of his life. First of all, the morning news was full of reports of fireworks, fires and explosions in general, all of which were placed firmly into the disproval part of his mind.

"Ruddy kids," he mumbled as he left his comfy chair, shaking his head in frustration that less of the world followed what he knew to be proper.

After receiving a sharp peck from his wife and a fist in his face from attempting to do the same to his little boy, he left his home determined to at least ensure that his family would hold fast against all this 'modern rubbish' as Petunia had so soundly put it. So great was his haste to get to his office that morning, he never once glanced up skywards. Had he done so, he might have crashed the car in shock. For in the sky that morning there had been _hundreds_ and _hundreds_ of owls of all kinds flying around.

Mr Dursley wasn't one for looking out of windows and contemplating, so he missed the resulting chaos that happened that day.

Aside from the owls everywhere, there were also a curious bunch of what he would have deemed 'weirdo's' wandering around in what appeared to be dazed shock. All had massive smiles plastered across their faces and were threatening to break out into song and dance at any moment. They _were_ odd these people. Passers-by often did a double take at the large, ungainly robes that hung off these strangers; their massive and colourful hats that tapered to points also raised a few comments.

Fortunately, the odd, curious people were just that, no more. When the police eventually checked out the large collections of people, they were hugged, handshake and complimented to such a degree many left the scene in a dazed and confused, but not altogether unhappy state. The people of Surrey, of _everywhere_ in Britain where these people had turned up, merely decided that the strangers were agreeable if a little disturbing.

They hoped they would go away in due course.

However, being a dedicated sort of individual, Mr Dursley saw none of this until he came down to drive home. On top of his car was a singular owl which seemed to have been waiting for him to arrive. Mr Dursley was at once stunned and enraged at the single act of defiance against him in the past twenty years.

His loud "Shoo!" was greeted with a distained look from the owl, which proceeded to ruffle her feathers, defecate on the bonnet and fly off.

The windows on Mr Dursley's car were frosted over on the inside on the ride home. Mrs Dursley spotted the signs of a rant building in his bulging cranial vein and quickly defused him with talking about their son.

The bad news continued for the Dursley family. The news that evening built upon the bonfire that day and informed them that the fireworks had increased in intensity, the parliaments of owls were causing untold amounts of waste across the county and the strangers in town were in fact spread all over the country in a weird publicity stunt that had seemingly finished at this point. To a prim and proper family such as theirs, the information that the whole of England had been 'invaded' by these sorts of people, people who looked suspiciously like their secret (and shameful) in-laws, it was enough to force both to an early bed, praying to god that their troubles would soon be over.

How foolish they were.

* * *

The leaves swirled outwards due to a sudden and unexplained wind. Whilst they were settling, an old man in a ridiculously long purple cloak glided over them at with vigour surprising for one of his advanced years. Observing the street sign, he smiled and from the folds of his cloak produced THE PUTTER-OUTER, which proceeded to do just that with every lamp in the street.

It was very dark now, dark enough to hide everything that happened outside from everyone inside.

Indeed, it was too dark, as the man found out when he stubbed his toe on the low brick wall he appeared next to. Chuckling at his own mistake at being overly cautious, he took out a long thin stick from his sleeve- no, not a stick, it was crafted, cut and emanating a soft hum even as he withdrew it. Professor Albus Dumbledore, for of course that was the old man's name, held aloft the wand and softly illuminated the street in a small but recognisable glow. Satisfied, he approached a tawny cat who at had been watching the proceedings with both consternation and a flash of amusement.

"Professor McGonagall," he said respectfully, inclining his head.

The cat _shifted_ in but a moment and became a serious looking woman who viewed her surroundings with disdain.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said back, as the two walked slowly towards N.O 4 with a hesitation in each of their footsteps as both recognised the enormity of this day and their decision.

"Is it true, Albus? _Is he, You-Know-Who really gone_?" McGonagall asked, seeming to disbelieve anything so extraordinarily wonderful unless he confirmed it.

Albus gravely bowed his head and answered "It is indeed true Minerva, perhaps only for now, Lord Voldemort has been defeated. The Potter's however…" he tapered off as both held back tears.

The Potters had almost all fallen. Both parents were dead along with the rest of the family, taken earlier in the war. However, that still left…

"Harry?" McGonagall asked with trepidation.

"It appears, for a few reasons, that he is alive and well. I have no proven facts about the case but my guesses in this regard shall serve us for now. Lilly Potter cast herself in front of her child. This sacrifice saved him from the killing curse that followed, casting Voldemort from the house. He is not dead yet, Minerva. Will he die in due course? Perhaps, but until we have conformation, we must ensure Harry's safety."

The old Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed after explaining all of this. Once he would have held onto all of these secrets and confidently assumed he was right. However the war had gone on for too long, too many people had died because of his mistakes. Perhaps he was all the better for it. Regardless, he now had to place Harry Potter into the 'care' of his relatives.

McGonagall apposed this with a furious outcry, "Albus! We cannot leave him here; they are the worst type of Muggles…I know, I know we cannot really have him in the wizarding world just yet. Being who he is would ruin him if he were exposed to all this all his life."

She sighed. "Is this our only option?" she said softly now.

Dumbledore was stricken with self-doubt but could see little alternative, at least for now.

He didn't want to interfere with these people's minds but…perhaps a sub conscious message? _'Do not physically harm Harry Potter'_ should suffice. Dumbledore could see the problems with this plan, the Dursleys could still starve or lock him away…he would just have to ensure Harry could be watched by one of his own.

Yes…this could work. The headmaster's thoughts progressed in this way in such a short amount of time. McGonagall looked at him with hope as she saw his mind at work. If anyone could solve this problem, he could.

Professor Dumbledore looked up suddenly as a loud groan and a bang echoed around the street. Seconds later, a humungous motor bike with a man three times its size on it landed on the tarmac, wheels screeching in protest as the engines revved towards the waiting pair. Dumbledore's strange stick flicked and the sound that had now become a roar was muted to a soft purr.

"Hagrid," he said with a curious tint to his voice, "how did you get Sirius's bike?"

Hagrid the giant stepped down from the bike with a bundle of blankets in his arms.

"Professor Dumbledore sir, Professor McGonagall," he began, nodding to both as they nodded back, "Young Sirius Black gave his bike to me when he saw what 'appened to the house. He jus' checked on little Harry hear then left. Poor kid…" the large man began howling with sadness at this point.

"Easy Hagrid," McGonagall said, gingerly patting his elbow.

Dumbledore took the baby wrapped in the blankets and stared in shock at the large and unnatural scar slashed into his forehead.

"Albus, could you…do something about that?" McGonagall said, gesturing towards the bloody scar.

She saw the look he was giving to it, his patented concentrated expression. Something was not right here.

Internally, Dumbledore was confused as to why there was so much dark magic hidden in the mark. Surely the curse would not leave so much…unless…

The night had suddenly become sharp and cold and he was now wondering what on earth Voldemort was trying to accomplish. Suddenly, the monster hidden in the world was all the more threatening.

He snapped back to reality and briefly closed his eyes. The plan would continue, but now it was imperative that Harry have little contact with the wizarding world. The Ministry would tear him apart to figure out what was in his head. He reassured himself that this arrangement would only last as long as...

The baby stirred in his sleep and Albus Dumbledore quickly but gently laid him down on the welcome mat in front of the door. Dumbledore gave him a letter to grasp onto, explaining what he hoped would be an adequate reason for these events. He would return later, once he has researched this matter more closely, to explain more fully what was best for Harry. Once more the stick was in his hands. The letter sparkled gold for a moment. Also, a peculiar but most pleasant feeling of warmth hung in the air surrounding the blankets. The infant fell into a more deeper sleep. The old man stood up straight and rapped smartly on the door.

"Well, that is all I can do for the moment," Dumbledore sighed again as he strode back to where the other professor and Hagrid were watching.

"Hagrid, I am sure I shall see you later this week at Hogwarts. Professor" he inclined, before walking back along the street, releasing the light back into the lamps as he did so.

The warm glow seemed to change the mood somewhat. Now Dumbledore and the others were hoping beyond hope that they would not live to regret what they had done. Harry shifted slightly in his blankets, unknowingly the saviour, and greatest hope for a world that had just cast him away from them.

* * *

His aunt's scream that met him in a few minutes sufficed to sum up the next ten years of his existence.

**Author's note**

**And there you go. My first chapter in my first fanfic. I do hope you enjoyed it. Please review and respond. As for where this story is going, basically everyone is going to behave a little bit more intelligently in this story than they did in the books, (there probably won't be much reference to the films here) and Dumbledore, Ron and Ginny won't be as infuriating as they were. This first part will follow the cannon fairly closely, but from the end of HPaPS, who knows what will happen?****  
**


	2. Chapter 1: The Prodigal Returns

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created. **

Chapter 1

The air in the smallest room in N.O 4 Privet Drive was musty as Harry Potter woke up. As he usually did when he had a nightmare, he peered around the room to ensure everything was still normal.

The dust and cobwebs caked the room, covering the unused books and broken toys his cousin Dudley clung onto out of a sense of possessiveness. The discarded and shattered gadgets, torn up games and disembowelled action figures told Harry that he still was under the thumb of his aunt and uncle, that his life was fairly awful and that he himself would be miserable for the better part of his birthday.

Yes, it was that time of year again, a day that cruelly showed up with ruthless efficiency to laugh in his face and tell him that he had survived another year at Privet Drive. Harry was long past crying over his situation but the sheer hopelessness of his life continued to get him down when he sat still. Happily in this house…

"Boy! Get up and get me my coffee! The stockholders are coming today and I want to be there early!"

Uncle Vernon had developed a special shouting voice for Harry that he could hold for an entire day before becoming hoarse and today he was under pressure so he vented by being especially despicable to Harry. Whilst Harry duly got up to create a perfect coffee (he had made 10,894 cups so far in his life- not that he was counting) his mind was silently soaring with the good news that his altogether nasty family would be spending the day at a meeting trying to sweet talk more money into the company.

It was, considering the events of the past month, the best birthday present he could have had. That snake 'incident' had him locked in the cupboard downstairs for a day and it was one of the times that he had actually feared for his life. However, Uncle Vernon had returned at night, ordered him upstairs and left with a misty sheen to his eyes. Harry was very careful over the next couple of days to make sure he didn't set his abusive caretakers off. Dudley in particular was being a complete and utter turd about the snake 'incident'- it was always an 'incident' to Uncle Vernon; he said that then gave Harry an angry look. Then again, he did that an awful lot. Whenever something strange happened, anywhere, in the world, he would look at Harry as if he was personally responsible.

Then again, Harry seemed to attract some strange 'incidents'. Complete strangers pointing and waving at him in the street, somehow ending up on top of the school once and in one memorable incident, watching as Aunt Marge's dog turned on her and tore her blouse off. It was very befuddling, the police in particular- the ones who weren't laughing, certainly looked befuddled by what happened. Of course, Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry and over the next month, he learnt the exact meaning of 'intensive spring cleaning'.

Regardless, Harry was looking forward to a Dursley free day and had to stop himself whistling, Aunt Petunia didn't believe in whistling, as he prepared coffee and breakfast for the three rulers of his world.

He heard his Uncle checking over his new car. Uncle Vernon was often rushing out of the house to check that the 'ruddy birds hadn't s**t on the roof' which invariable caused a smile to form on Harry's thin face. He was short for his age, and very skinny. The Dursleys did not starve him, but Dudley especially thought that Harry should have less than everyone else. He bullied Harry vindictively and Harry was now especially good at running and spectacularly bad at standing still. Fighting had not yet become part of his repertoire, as Dudley had the unusual ability of being so fat that Harry felt sure a car could impact with the boy and he would only fall over.

Well...Harry didn't quite believe that but a boy could dream, couldn't he?

Harry was constantly twitching and looking around for attacks and 'pranks', which due to Dudley's special brand of intelligence was generally a painful experience. He waved them all goodbye that morning and as they drove off he allowed himself a brief smile as he observed the lilies growing in the front garden.

* * *

Mrs Figg watched the boy disappear into the house with a concerned expression. Albus had set up the charm that allowed Harry to be safe both from Vol…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his relatives, yet he had not had a happy childhood. Whilst she had never seen him injured or carrying scars, other than THE scar, she had often been concerned about his stunted growth and overall skinniness.

Ah well, she thought. All that could, and will change today. This was the first time in months Harry was un-attended and they certainly weren't going to waste this opportunity. She had informed them that the usual letter would not get through, no matter how many they sent. So the Headmaster agreed to wait for a more suitable time, or to create one if it came to it. Mrs Figg signalled her message before once again looking at the closed door of N.O 4.

_'Poor Harry,'_ she thought.

_'Who knows what will happen to you next?'_

* * *

Harry was watching the BBC News and wondering what he could do to enliven his birthday when suddenly an almighty pound landed on the door. He leapt up electrified.

The Dursleys had come back and were annoyed for some reason. What should he…

Harry forced himself to calm down. Uncle Vernon had a key, it probably wasn't him. This reassuring thought was interrupted by another pound on the door and Harry could hear the wood groaning under the applied force. Soon, it would collapse on itself and then where would he be when the Dursleys got back? Harry rushed to the door and then, with some trepidation on his part, opened it to reveal…well, what he assumed to be a man.

Yet this man was at the very least twice the height of Uncle Vernon and had hands the size of dustbin lids. One was raised in a fist that Harry shied away from until he realised that the giant man was just about to rap the door again.

He had little time to be frightened however as soon as he opened the door the giant beamed and pulled him into a hug that could crush bears.

The man boomed in a deep voice, "Hello, Harry! Been a while, hasn't it. Nice to see you again."

Harry could only gasp after the man released him from the hug, which had to admit, was nice enough.

"Ah, wait. I suppose y' don' remember me, eh." The man mused, "Well, I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Corse you know all about Hogwarts," he enthused greatly.

Harry was incredibly confused by all of this. What was this Hogwarts?

Scratch that.

Who was this man who claimed to know him?

"Sorry, no," Harry began cautiously.

"No? Did yeh not wonder where you mum and dad learnt it all?" the man called Hagrid said incredulously.

Then understanding dawned on him and he looked shocked, sad and a little angry.

"Argh…Dumbledore warned me that these Muggles,"

"Muggles?" Harry asked,

"Non-magic folk," Hagrid replied, "Well, blimey Harry. I thought they might have told yeh something about who yeh are but…guess not. Right then, Harry, you're a wizard."

He paused for a moment because Harry was gaping at him in shock. A wizard? A…what really? Even though the sentence Hagrid had just spoken was nonsense…Harry could not help believing it. It felt right.

"Really?" he asked softly.

Hagrid was watching him sadly, "Yeh, and I _presume_ (he said that with an air of unfamiliarity) yeh don't know anythin' about yeh parents either?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, there was this wizard…not all of us are good y' know. An' he was as bad as you can get. He killed your parents, well; he killed a lot of people really. It was a war and we were losing. Only person that kept us from going under was Dumbledore and some brave people that followed him. He's the headmaster... headmaster of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's a place to teach you all about the world and about magic. I got a letter here to invite you to enter."

Hagrid finished his statement and began fumbling through his pockets, presumably for the letter. Harry's head was racing with the new knowledge. His parents had been murdered. He felt an icy chill when he thought about that. The green light in his dreams held a new meaning now…

He was going to a Wizard school?

That could be good or bad. Could it be worse than the Dursleys?

This man had shown more kindness in the last five minutes than they had ever done…

Harry motioned for Hagrid to come in to the sitting room.

"Ta, Harry," he said, still routing through his massive coat.

Harry was amused when a couple of mice fell out and scattered towards the kitchen. He would love to see Aunt Petunia's face when she found the mouse holes. Hagrid had found the letter and was now- somehow- cooking sausage in the living room.

He passed the letter over to Harry before slapping a giant hand to his forehead and exclaiming, "Oh wait! I forgot to give yeh this!"

And he dug out a box that held within a delightful looking cake to the hungry Harry.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Hagrid said, giving him the sausages on a plate as well as the letter.

* * *

The next ten minutes were spent explaining more questions Harry had about Hogwarts, with Hagrid answering them as best he could but also saying that Hogwarts had encountered this sort of thing before with Muggle-born students, "That's magic folk born from non-magic. Pretty strange stuff but it'll all be explained in the prep-pack."

Harry was told about the Ministry of Magic, given a brief History of Wizards in Great Britain in which he was surprised to learn Merlin was real(ish) and that wizards were keeping themselves and magic secret from the outside world for their own safety. He also learnt more about Muggle-borns, Pure-bloods and other aspects of wizarding society from the pack and from Hagrid's own inputs.

"It's all tosh Harry," Hagrid explained when they got onto the topic of bloodlines, "jus' another way some people can feel all superior 'bout themselves. That war I mentioned? Well, You-Know-Who weren't no Pure-blood an' they all followed him. Rotgut."

Harry read through the letter again, Hagrid having sent off the owl telling this Professor McGonagall he would be attending in September. He was beginning to feel excited about the whole thing, particularly when the Dursleys came back to find a giant in the living room doing magic tricks. The resulting conversation lasted two minutes and ended with a fair bit off squealing from both Uncle Vernon and Dudley, who now had a pig's tail. Hagrid told them he was taking Harry out for a bit and they threatened him before running away from the giants stare of fury.

"Don't worry Harry," Hagrid reassured him, "Dumbledore'll set those codgers straight, you see if he don't."

Harry blinked. Suddenly they were in a place that looked suspiciously like London...and he felt like he had been horse kicked. Hagrid looked down at him apologetically.

"Sorry 'bout that Harry, but Dumbledore gave me special permission to take you out for supplies."

Harry was still confused by the sudden departure.

"Hagrid, what did you just do?" he asked.

"Oh, well I er…well don't tell no one but I used a bit of magic to get us here a bit faster. Dumbledore's been teaching me apparition yeh see an'… oh yeah, apparition is like…appearing an' disappearing between places," Hagrid explained.

More than that, Harry could not gather from him.

It was a curious experience this 'apparation', not unpleasant really but strange. He tingled with static electricity and he discharged on a metal sign on the street.

"Hagrid, where are we going?" he asked. Hagrid moved on ahead towards a shabby pub with a sign above the door that said: The Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

**Authors note**

**So this is a source of contention, but who would you have picked for introducing Harry to the Wizarding world? McGonagal and Hagrid are favourites of course, but what are your reasons? **

**Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 2: The Hidden Street

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 2

To say Harry was shocked by the reaction he caused in the pub would be an understatement.

He was greeted with a loud cheer before everyone at the bar and sat at the tables, including the landlord himself leapt at the chance to shake his hand. Hagrid was beaming around at the positive reaction but was also keeping an eye out to ensure Harry wasn't swamped by the crowd.

Harry himself was overloaded with information on people, who they were, the surprisingly familiar smell of beer emanating from behind the bar and the bad lighting meant people quite literally appeared unnoticed right in front of him. He remembered only one person of note, a twitchy man who seemed as uncomfortable as he was who shook himself as he shook Harry's hand.

Professor Quirell certainly didn't look up for the job of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher although, Harry mused, perhaps all fighters in the wizarding world were like that so soon after a large conflict.

Hagrid eventually caught Harry's eye and led him out, beating back the crowd to let him pass. He cast a sympathetic eye down on the small eleven years old. The entire wizarding world wanted to meet him and now he will simply have to get used to it at Hogwarts at least. The giant was no stranger to points or staring but at least he was imposing and naturally friendly. People couldn't help liking him. This boy however was going to need help to settle in.

Hagrid shook his head. Dumbledore may have consigned Harry to ten years with the daft Muggles but at least Harry didn't have to deal with the Prophet taking pictures of him every week of his life. Harry meanwhile, was beginning to understand exactly what an ordeal he would have to go through in order to prove himself as a person- not as a figure head or as an event. He stared up at Hagrid.

_He _didn't seem to view Harry as a celebrity…although to be fair he hadn't known him so very long.

They paused at a brick wall that was chipped and aged but stood up straight compared to the building he had just left. Hagrid flashed Harry a smile before tapping the wall.

Harry's jaw dropped (another thing that had happened a lot today) as an entire street was revealed before his eyes. Sounds and smells came to him through the wall; the screech of birds that he thought might be owls, the stench of ingredients being poured into cauldrons, the beautiful display of flowers that glittered like jewels in the sun. Harry started as he saw that Hagrid had moved on ahead whilst he had been gawping at the sights. Flushing slightly, he ran to catch up as he heard Hagrid pointing out various shops which he knew he just had to visit.

Hagrid had already mentioned a bank for wizards back at Privet Drive so Harry knew what he was looking at when he spotted the large marble building that was so strangely designed. While it was fantastic to look at, it was strange also. Everything was out of proportion by a large degree. The windows were far too thin but very tall. The doors were also very thin, Hagrid barely got through without squeezing himself. Once inside however, the reason for the height was made clear.

Goblins were guarding the inner door and eyed them suspiciously as they passed through. It seemed they had up scaled their architecture for wizards but out of ignorance (or spite, Harry thought, thinking back to the wizarding history section) the width of everything had not been increased as successfully.

Regardless, Hagrid explained that it and the vaults beneath were almost impenetrable to anyone but the goblins working there. Somewhere down there in the dark were both his parents' and his family's vault.

The family vault was apparently quite large, for his father's family were an old lineage but due to an 'incident', and Harry grinned here at how this goblins described this, involving his father, the Potter family decided to seal the vault to anyone below 17 years of age. Harry was actually quite relieved by this as he didn't want to be responsible for a small fortune just yet. His private vault (which was, he found out, set up for tuition expenses) was much smaller yet still contained, according to a quick summation from Griphook- an assistant manager of accounts, more than enough to cover both Hogwarts tuition fees for seven years and his personal expenses in that time period.

Harry was impressed with the efficiency of Gringotts as he and Hagrid left just thirty minutes later with a bag laden with golden galleons, silver sickles and bronze knuts. He was however, even more nervous about Hogwarts and how he, not just a celebrity but a wealthy one to boot, would be received by the student body.

Hagrid said that many would be Muggle-borns but even they would receive history packs that would explain however briefly, what he had done. He took out his own pack and leafed through to his own summation. To his great relief, someone somewhere had decided to just mention the fall of Voldemort (it had politely been stated in the pamphlet that the wizarding world was uncomfortable with saying his name out loud) and not what caused it.

Satisfied that he could at least make some sort of impression on a few people before they figured out who he was, Harry chatted with Hagrid about less solemn things such as Quidditch- a frankly amazing sounding game that his father apparently played well.

Hagrid, realising that Harry knew next to nothing about his parents, told him all he knew. James Potter was a prankster supreme and seemed to be friends with everyone. He was arrogant and skilled but mellowed after his fifth year at Hogwarts. He began dating Lily soon after. Lily was even more gifted at charms and potions but it was her kindness that marked her out to Hagrid. She also possessed a fierce temper that developed after second year, which was well renowned for shattering more than a few windows at Hogwarts.

Harry drank in every word, feeling a small but dull ache of sadness and of pride when Hagrid listed his parents' qualities and their antics. Hagrid promised that he would try to get some pictures for Harry later on, which Harry responded to with enthusiasm.

To hold a moving, non-static image of his parents, to see them for the first time, meant the world to him. He was beginning to really appreciate Hagrid and all he had done.

* * *

In fact, the rest of the afternoon was brilliant. Even an obnoxious boy his age in Madam Malks' robe shop didn't dampen his spirits. Harry had caught on to the fact that the boy was Pure-Blood and insufferably scathing of Muggles in general. He was beginning to have some misgivings as to how reasonable the Wizarding world was when it came to tolerance and fairness.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what was magical about a hairdressers or a pub but the Owl Emporium was clearly full of charmed dustpans and brushes clearing away the dung dropped from perches. The owls themselves were beautiful beings, wisdom and intelligence showing clearly deep within their eyes. The Snowy owls were peaceful and sleeping, the Barn owls were preening themselves and there was a massive eagle owl in the corner tearing the head off of a rat. Harry didn't like the look of that one.

Hagrid introduced him to a snowy owl that looked at him curiously before nipping his finger softly. Hagrid then said that he would pay for this owl as a birthday present if Harry wanted her. Harry protested as Hagrid had done so much already but he did look again at the owl. She seemed to approve of him and so he took Hagrid up on his offer, thanking him profusely for his first ever birthday present.

Harry was impatient to finally get to the last store on his list, Ollivander's wand shop in which he could finally get his hands on a magic wand; just saying the words magic wand made Harry giggle at how surreal this experience was.

He took the decayed and dark shop in his stride, from what he had seen so far, wizards didn't seem to care about attractive store fronts. What he was not prepared for was Mr Ollivander himself.

The old man was creepy, plain and simple.

He didn't seem to even see Harry Potter until he was holding a wand given to him. Apparently, the old man liked a challenge however, as Harry seemed to be incompatible to many of the wands in his shop. Between the brief waving and the quick snatching off before the next wand, Harry wondered if he was insulting Ollivander's craftsmanship by being so poor with his wands. This proved to be untrue however; Ollivander's enjoyment grew by the minute until he finally grew quiet and reflective at the very back of the shop.

"Well, let's try this," Mr Ollivander said with a strange tint to his voice.

Harry ignored this. His entire point of view was now centred on the thin strip of wood in the old man's hand that seemed to hum in time with his heartbeat.

As he took it into his grasp, a spark shot through his arm and his mind suddenly felt so full of energy and power that when he twitched his hand the power surged forth and red sparks shot straight out of the end of the wand. Both men applauded and Harry paid, slightly shaken by what had just happened.

Mr Ollivander looked at him peculiarly before dropping the bombshell that this wand was the twin of Voldemort's.

Harry looked again at the earthy coloured wooden strip. It did not look so threatening, even when he did find out about it's lineage. The hum that came from it was rhythmical, almost musical in nature, like a bird song. The wand was in his bag now, but he could feel a oh so small connection. He felt like he had at once both expanded his horizons and yet submitted to this tool and yet it too was bound to him. Hagrid seemed to give him a bit of space to adapt before they moved onwards back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

It was early evening now and the sun was streaming down the street, touching everything and making it brighter for a moment before they passed by. It had been the best birthday, the best day Harry had ever had.

Hagrid took him home on the train this time, muttering a half heard explanation about "not over doing it."

Harry didn't mind as it gave him more time to grill Hagrid about what he had to do on the 1st of September. He was told about the platform trick and was told by Hagrid to just run at it if he was nervous. Harry had no problems with disappearing walls now and so Hagrid gave him his ticket and bade him farewell on his doorstep.

* * *

Harry fell asleep that night and for once, he dreamed unafraid of dragons, flying witches and the golden halls of Hogwarts.

**Authors note**

**Thank you to Josh20 for his review. I will not be making this a Harry/Ginny flick. Also, I feel the need to point out that there will be little to no Ron or Dumbledore bashing. They were messed up in the last three books but before then I feel like they were written well enough. I also won't be making Harry a 'lord' or anything because I feel like that is a slight against his character. He is supposed to be noble on the inside and not because of the family he was born into. The wands are not going to speak but they will be important.**

**Do you like stories in which Harry is rich and a noble? As always, your views are interesting to me.**

**Thank you for viewing and please keep sending in reviews!**


	4. Chapter 3: Misdirection

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 3

In the study of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall were going through the new student list for the coming year. Magic could suffice to sort through, multiply and send letters and receive them but they needed to find out which of their new students may need support or care upon arrival.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin has is prone to asthma" Albus noted, "Please inform Poppy that she may be required to perform minor treatment on his throat and lungs if he agrees to it." Minerva noted it on her parchment.

Gulge, Barnaby may require some eye adjustment. He has long-sightedness," Minerva said.

Magic could not effectively fix short-sightedness until magical maturity, however long-sightedness can be effectively treated through a mixture of transfiguration and potions from the get go.

Both professors' minds wandered to the new students they had personally invited to Hogwarts. Albus had done many; he had a real pleasure in revealing the magical world to one more person and had been doing it for over fifty years. Minerva had done only one that year, a very excitable girl named Hermione Granger.

Her parents had taken the revelation well and the girl herself had been ecstatic. The professor smiled at the memory, it seemed Hogwarts was going to be receiving many bright young minds this year. Speaking of which…

"Did Hagrid explain the situation well?" she asked.

Albus frowned. Minerva didn't mistrust Hagrid but she felt he was not suited to these sorts of tasks. Hagrid had proved to be exemplary in this endeavour however, welcoming not only Harry into his world but telling Harry many things that he personally needed to know, without being star-struck or overly thankful towards Harry. Albus was pleased that Harry had finally been treated as a person by someone and was looking forward to seeing what the boy could do.

"Hagrid had my absolute confidence, Minerva. He treated Harry with respect, as a person and not as an item, and most importantly of all, Harry has found someone with whom he can trust and connect with. He is prepared, he knows what to expect when he comes to Hogwarts and _we _know that he is ready and willing to learn. This could not have gone better," Albus finished off his list and looked across the desk at Minerva. "And that reminds me, Poppy might need to do something about Harry's glasses. I doubt there is much we can do for his eye. But at least we can give him the correct lenses."

"I understand, headmaster. What of Flammel's package?" she asked.

He sighed and said, "I retrieved the false stone from his vault just before they went down to Harry's vault. Hagrid was a worthy distraction. My suspicions were confirmed. Quirrel is working for Voldemort."

Minerva gasped as he continued, "It seems we could, if we are very careful, lure Voldemort from wherever he has sunk himself into a trap. Then perhaps we can finally end him."

Minerva sharply rounded on this idea, "We cannot let You-Know-Who into the castle, not with the students particularly Harry Potter here! Have you taken leave of your senses?"

The headmaster calmly smoothed down his robes before replying, "Calm yourself, Professor. I have a plan."

* * *

**Authors note**

**This is one of the first true breaks from canon. It is a set-up for the events of the school year and I assure you that Dumbledore isn't going to be using Harry as bait. His plan is actually quite clever in this regard. A short one this but it should suffice to cover the length of time from the 30****th**** of July till 1****st**** of September. **

**How far do you think magic can heal? Obviously there is the canon limit of cursed wounds but are there more?**

**Thank you for reading!**


	5. Chapter 4: Scarlet Engine

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 4

Generally, Harry had found Uncle Vernon to be an altogether disagreeable person but in this case he was more than eager to drive him to the train station.

As he drove off laughing, Harry took a moment to admire the busy station with the hundreds of people rushing to and from trains, and the high vaulted ceiling which let in so much light. As his last look at the Muggle world for at least 10 months, it wasn't half bad.

The entrance to platform 9 ¾ was simple enough to get through if a little daunting; it was after all, a straight run up into an apparently brick wall. Harry thought that few people unused to the wizarding world wouldn'tbe a little afraid of doing this.

As he was gearing himself up for the run, he caught his first sight of a wizarding family. The mother and children were a strange bunch, a collection of woolly jumpers, large trunks stacked on top of trollies and the fact that they had an owl with them made the group stick out like a sore thumb. Harry wondered exactly what sort of magic allowed wizards to get away with being so…obvious.

There was a very excited girl of no more than ten running up and down the group. The mother was clearly trying to placate her a little, as surely all of them already knew what the platform number was?

The brothers, all four of them, chuckled at their younger sister before galloping through the wall at break neck speed. Harry hoped they weren't waiting around next to the other side of the entrance as he too ran towards the wall and suddenly found himself at the far end of a deserted train station. Remembering that someone could be coming behind him at any moment, he turned his trolley around and saw that it was not an empty station as he had thought.

There was a sizeable crowd a few hundred meters away and a truly magnificent scarlet train on the tracks. Pinkish steam erupted from the funnel in its cabin and he immediately fell in love with the steam engine. Harry wondered where the wizards could have gotten one from until he realised that they had probably not bothered updating to diesel, indeed why would they?

He also knew Hogwarts was basically impenetrable from magical transportation methods and that…what was the name of the village? There was one fairly close by that presumably had a station of its own. This entire set up had made the point sink in that wizards were everywhere and had been for a very long time.

Harry shook his head of these thoughts and concentrated on working his way through the crowd. He hoped he wouldn't be spotted by anyone. His heavy trunk was somehow effortlessly lifted by the skinny boy onto the train before being set down with a clunk by some invisible force (well, magic, duh).

Many of the compartments were still empty and so he picked one of them, set his trunk firmly in place and set Hedwig loose. She could fly along with the train or, more likely, fly straight to Hogwarts. As she soared gracefully out of the window, Harry once again began contemplating life at Hogwarts.

Suddenly the compartment door opened and the youngest of the brothers from earlier looked in sheepishly.

"Hi…Do you mind? Everywhere else is full." He said, looking uncertainly at Harry.

Confused, Harry leant out of the window and with a start noticed that he had been sat there for ten minutes and that everyone had boarded. He looked back at the ginger boy.

"Don't your brothers have a compartment?" he asked.

The boy looked down and said, "Well, Percy's a prefect so he went to their compartment. Fred and George went off with Lee and I wouldn't want to be stuck in a confined space with them anyway," his mouth twitching upwards as he said that, "They are real troublemakers, y'know? Anyway, everywhere else is full and…" he tailed off and started to back out of the compartment clearly embarrassed.

Harry stopped him and invited him in. He wasn't going to push people away now when they were finally talking to him.

"I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley," the boy called Ron offered.

Harry cringing internally as he said "I'm Harry...Potter."

Harry quickly looked at the other boy and saw to his expectations that Ron was gobsmacked.

"Do you, y'know, have the scar?" he asked, fairly politely.

Harry showed him the scar, a lightning bolt of a cut and Ron was again duly staring. Harry was becoming uncomfortable at this point but Ron quickly snapped out of his stupor and asked if Harry wanted to know anything more about Hogwarts. Apparently, to those born into the Wizarding world, Harry Potter disappeared to live amongst the Muggles, causing quite a bit of literary tat and speculation as to what might have happened plus, Ron told a flushed Harry, quite a large fan club desperate to finally see 'their hero'. Harry quickly changed the subject and both boys grinned as Harry asked more detailed questions about Quidditch, the Houses and Ron's life. He could already see that Ron had not come from money but had clearly been loved and looked after every day of his life.

Despite his flippant comments about his family, Harry could tell he cared about them deeply.

* * *

The lunch trolley came and went a shade lighter than it was. Harry was unsure whether he should be stuffing his small stomach with such sugary sweets but that wasn't going to stop him eating today.

Ron was in a league of his own however. Having demolished the pasties and the cakes, he was now gingerly picking through some beans which, he said, were generally revolting, brilliant or weird.

Harry, upon having a grass flavoured bean, saw his point. Only the indefatigable Weasley could eat these beans regularily. Ron's overtly fat rat was scampering over the food crumbs that were left by the two's onslaught. It wasn't completely useless however, as Harry found out when three boys who smelt of bully lumbered into the room. He was surprised to see that the small blonde kid from Diagon Alley was directing them but then again, the two monsters either side of him clearly weren't that bright.

Harry was nervous, his general tactic with Dudley was to run or confuse him, which wasn't really an option here. After some disparaging comments about Ron's family, the two meat boys moved in. Scabbers however, came to the rescues and bit one of them. This was more than enough to scare away the buffoons leaving the blonde one with no back up. Before this registered on his face, Harry and Ron threw him from the compartment and slammed the door shut.

"And that there Harry," said Ron, adopting a lecturing voice, "is exactly why the world is so messed up. That prat right there is Pure-Blood and his dad effectively controls the Minister for Magic."

Harry frowned, "How does he manage that?"

Ron shook his head and said, "My dad says that most Pure-Blood families are loaded with cash- except ours of course. Malfoy buys the right people off to get his policies through."

Ron also leaned in conspiratorially, "He was…very high up in the other side's ranks in the last war, if you catch my drift."

Harry gasped, "How can he still be free then?"

Ron smirked in distaste, "He said he was bewitched, whatever that means. Just an excuse for the courts. Gold did the rest."

Harry took a look at his dejected friend and tried to cheer him up by motioning to the stack of purple boxes they had not yet touched, "What are these?"

Ron's face immediately lit up, "Those are chocolate frogs, transfigured into behaving like real frogs even though they are solid chocolate. They're pretty good but it's the cards you want," he explained just as Harry was uncovering his first one: Albus Dumbledore.

The headmaster was clearly incredibly talented going off his achievements and Harry was curious as to see what he would say at the welcoming feat that night, which, as Ron kept raving about it, seemed to be a very great evening all round. The sorting however, he was nervous about. The pamphlet had only mentioned the 'sorting' and a test of sorts to decide in which house you would be put in. Ron was no help either and looked slightly green at the thought. Obviously, Harry thought, the twins had put some horrible image in his head of what the sorting would entail.

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "At least we are near the bottom of the list. We can see how it's done."

Ron nodded, reassured and continued showing Harry various cards of notable witches and wizards.

* * *

Evening was approaching when the door slid open again. A bushy haired girl stood in the doorway, quickly scanned the apartment and then looked at the two boys. Apparently a boy had lost a toad and she, judging from her demeanour, had leapt at the chance to be bossy to the whole train in the search for it. The reminder of animals made Harry look at Ron's rat again.

"Aren't rats not allowed?" he said.

Ron blushed and mumbled that he was going to keep him 'secret' in his dorm. Harry gave him a quick glance and then looked back at the girl.

"Who are you?" he asked politely.

She blinked and then answered, "I'm Hermione Granger."

He introduced himself and Ron. Hermione look curiously at Harry.

"You're in quite a few books you know," she said at Harry whilst frowning at Ron who was attempting to eat the last few chocolate frogs whole.

"I am?" Harry ventured warily, he really hadn't thought about that, Ron had made it sound like only gossipy stuff and conspiracy theories, not actual books...

"Oh yes," Hermione said in a matter of fact voice but she had a tone of sympathy when she said, "I'm not exactly sure how widespread your fame is but I would imagine at Hogwarts…"

"I figured. So are you not from the wizarding world then?" Harry picked up on the fact that she had to read up on him, wasn't she told at home?

"I'm from…what did Professor McGonagall call it…a Muggle family. First witch from it." She said happily, clearly pleased to be going to Hogwarts.

"Anyway, nice to meet you and everything but I need to get back and you two need to change. I expect we will be arriving soon." She took off at speed down the train. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged.

"Mental," both said at the same time, and then grinned at each other before pulling their trunks down.

* * *

Hagrid was waiting for the first years at the station and led them down to some boats. Harry looked around, confused that he couldn't see Hogwarts already. When the boats passed around a rocky crag though, Harry and many others gasped in awe.

High above them, on a low lying mountain surrounded by others, stood an enormous castle that thrummed with magical energy. The many windows were little pinpricks in the mighty walls as Harry looked at the colossal tower that he assumed to be the Astronomy Tower, the tallest of the four main towers of Hogwarts. His mind boggled at the size.

How many people were at this place?

Why was it so big?

They passed under a rock formation and the group saw a wooden door set into a honey coloured wall. Hagrid knocked on the door and it opened after shouting at Hagrid to not tap too hard, revealing a stern looking woman holding a scroll in one hand. The giant disappeared as Professor McGonagall led them into a simply cavernous entrance hall, which seemed to stretch the full height of the main castle upwards.

Harry could see the multitude of staircases above him and shivered at the thought of falling from one of them. The Professor explained quickly about the house system before leading them through to what she called the great hall. It was filled with students looking at the fairly terrified first years. Harry could see the white gleam from the headmaster's beard at the end of the hall.

McGonagall stopped in front of a battered old hat and Harry watched as the hat began to sing. He couldn't help himself and started laughing about the absurdity of the situation. Ron was seething quietly at his brothers for telling him he would have to wrestle a troll. The long list of names was called out, with Hermione and Malfoy being the only names Harry recognised. She was placed in Gryffindor, by all accounts the most attractive of houses. Malfoy was immediately placed in Slytherin, apparently a house for the sneaky but smart. Harry narrowed his eyes somewhat. Even though Slytherin had a bad reputation, he could see many faces along their table that did not seem to bear any hostility to any of the first years. Cunning did not necessarily mean insidious, after all.

Ron desperately wanted to be put into Gryffindor with the rest of his family but Harry didn't really have a preference. It would be interesting to see what the hat made of him. When his name rang out, it was repeated a thousand times by the students and teachers, all craning to have a look at him. He felt uneasy being on a stage in front of them all, and was immensely relieved when the hat slid over his eyes blocking his view of them all.

"Hmm," said a voice just below his left ear.

"Potter, yes…I have been waiting to see what you would bring to this school."

Harry gulped as the hat continued on burrowing through his head.

"Not bad at all, eager to learn, thirst to prove yourself…uncertain of whom you are. Very interesting."

Was what the hat said true?

Harry's thoughts continue to whirl before the hat interrupted them, "Please Potter, calm yourself. You know, I think you would do well in Slytherin. What say you?"

Harry considered. He didn't know enough about the house history, but from what he could tell, Slytherin was for the power hungry, the ones determined to excel and defeat everyone else. That did not sound like him.

"Perhaps Potter, perhaps…" the hat interrupted his thoughts again, causing Harry to jump; he had forgotten the hat was in his head.

"Hmm, not a bad mind, quite logical in fact. Ah but you have drive and far, far too much ambition to go into Ravenclaw. You have no concept of loyalty, though I can understand that given your situation...Hmm, very interesting. I think...I think you may have to choose one for yourself, Potter."

Harry was starting to get annoyed at the hat. Wasn't it's entire function to split the school up? Obviously it had gone walkers and started singing to itself in the downtime.

"You know Potter, for someone so smart, you seem to be having trouble with the 'in your head' thing. I assure you, I can choose if I so desire, but I always look for the input of the student."

Now Harry was being reprimanded by a hat!

The school watched on with curiosity. The hat seemed to be taking it's time with Harry Potter and each house was hoping he would come to them.

The teachers were privately curious as well, with even Dumbledore peering at the little figure on the stool.

Finally, the seam in the hat opened and shouted, "Gryffindor!"

The whole of Gryffindor house burst into applause but so did many of the other houses. Harry felt unsure of why they were doing that but when he saw the teachers applauding too he figured they might also be thanking him for the…well, the 'incident'.

Grinning slightly, he settled down in an empty space along the table. Percy the prefect and Hermione both smiled at him whilst the twins both wrung his hand. Ron did of course also manage to get into Gryffindor and both boys were now watching as the list finally finished and Dumbledore declared the feast to begin. Both boys stared at the food that appeared before them before diving straight in.

After a very long time of doing nothing but eat and drink, Harry sat back as Dumbledore stood again.

"First, I would like to welcome our new first years to Hogwarts. May you excel whilst you are here. Now the full list of banned items Mr Filch so studiously updates each year has been once again added to his office door. My usual reminder of staying out of the Forbidden Forest stands," and at this the Headmaster pointedly fixed his eyes on the Weasley twins, "It is not there for your amusement but for the maintaining of rare magical creatures and is a notable Centaur colony. Please do not go wondering through it. On an even more serious note, I most advise not stray into the third floor corridor on the right hand side to anyone who does wish to die a most painful death. And by the way...I have locked the door myself, so don't even think about taking this on as a challenge."

Harry could see the truth etched into Dumbledore's face at this statement.

"And now, I shall release you. Off to bed, pip pip."

Harry stumbled along with the other first years, wondering exactly what he was getting into.

Why did the school appear to have a nature reserve full of dangerous creatures?

What was on the third floor?

Why the HELL were the pictures moving?

At the moment though, he had no answers to these questions so he just followed the sound of Percy's voice to his new common room. Apparently he had to give a password to a painting and then he could get in.

The room itself looked lovely, with a fire already lit in the large grate and the twin scent of cinnamon and pine needles. His bed looked extremely inviting after such a good meal and he barely managed to change into pyjamas before collapsing into it.

* * *

"Most intriguing," Albus Dumbledore murmured after he finished speaking to the hat.

The old thing was never fully forthright about the conversations he had with students, yet would give a general impression of each for the Headmaster to consider.

"Mr Potter apparently has the raw skill and natural cunning to perform well in Slytherin, yet he seemed to refuse that possibility."

He thought for a while about what that could mean.

Perhaps the boy could avoid the traps he himself had fallen into, lusting for power that he was not worthy of having.

Thank Merlin's that he didn't seem to be so cock-sure as his father was before he become so much more delightfully wiser. He winced slightly when he considered the possibility of Harry inheriting his mother's temper. Dumbledore remembered how long she had to apologise to the Herbology teacher for shattering that greenhouse...

He glanced down at the wand that had been his obsession for years. He had pondered this for some time and had now reached a decision.

Taking out his old, real wand, abandoned for so many years in his pursuit of power, the old wizard incinerated the Elder Wand. He felt a great weight float away from him as he checked to see if any parts of the wand remained. A warm feeling spread through him as he felt his old wand in his hand again. Dumbledore smiled as Fawkes stretched his wings.

This year had begun well.

**Authors Notes**

**Yes, I'm getting rid of that early. It never felt right that the canon Dumbledore (who had apparently repented) hadn't destroyed the wand already. Moreover, I felt I had to highlight that Harry wasn't just rejecting Slytherin because of one bully, which seems fairly petty. He's going to have friends in all of the houses. Oh I forgot to mention before. Ron and Hermione probably won't be together either…but then again their characters will be different so anything is possible I guess.**

**Anyone know WHY Hogwarts is so blooming massive?**

**Thanks for reading. **


	6. Chapter 5: Stirring the potion

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 5

*_Thoughts are like this, characters are attached to them by name_

The first few days after the start of term were a blizzard of confusion and chaos for everyone.

Professor McGonagall had handed Harry his timetable on the 2nd of September and he had yet to get to a single lesson on time. Happily for him, everyone else seemed to be in the same boat, trying to navigate the unhelpfully large castle and by the end of the week he had begun to memorise the various routes to his classes. The staircases were giving him some grief as they were unreliable in their movements on a day to day basis but, as Harry reflected as he came down on Friday morning to breakfast, at least he wasn't afraid of heights.

Hermione however, had to not only contend with a heavy bag of books she insisted on lugging around everywhere but also her deep rooted fear of the second floor stair case, who's mission in life seemed to be to make first years scream as it stopped halfway through its turn between floors, leaving them all dangling above a stomach clenching drop. Eventually, word got around about the trick of kicking the second step up, which made the stairs do its job properly.

Breakfast was another affair entirely. Apart from the owls that were want to fly down and deposit, among other things, letters and parcels, the teachers were also almost always there, badgering fifth and seventh year students about their exams. Harry definitely wasn't looking forward to those and Ron had yet again a few horror stories supplied from his large family about the pressure cooker that was the **N**astily **E**xhausting **W**izard **T**ests.

Both Ron and Harry looked up as the mail arrived that morning, out of habit more than anything else. Ron had a subscription to the Daily Prophet wizard newspaper which duly landed in front of him on time every morning, whilst Harry never got anything because of course, everyone who liked him was inside the walls of Hogwarts already. He was surprised when Hedwig landed softly beside him with a note attached to her leg. She nipped his finger and took off again, probably to preen herself. Harry smiled when he saw that Hagrid had invited him to his hut for tea that afternoon. He looked up at the high table and nodded to the giant sat at the end.

The school year had started on a weekend and he hadn't had a break from all the work he had been given since. Ron would be coming too as Hagrid had been particularly fond of his older brother Charlie.

Harry choked on his cornflakes when Ron said nonchalantly, "He's out in Romania studying dragons."

"Dragons?" Harry said after a few moments of clearing his throat.

"Yeah, loves the bloody things. Got quite a few burns from a few of them though," Ron answered.

Harry was still questioning him about dragons as Ron unrolled the paper and gasped when he saw the headline.

"Harry, Gringotts was broken into!" he said in disbelief as several people who didn't take in a daily paper swivelled in his direction in shock.

Harry didn't know much about the wizarding world yet but he knew enough to tell him that something very powerful or very clever would be needed in order to crack the goblin bank. People were grabbing the nearest paper to them with concern.

Gringotts had been their idea of impregnability and the idea of it being robbed was unsettling. Curiously, the teacher table at the front of the hall was oddly relaxed about the morning papers. Dumbledore was even chuckling at the daily comic strip.

Harry wasn't quite sure, and he wouldn't tell anyone else in case he was wrong, but there might be something going on here at Hogwarts.

Ron looked relieved, along with most of the student body, when it turned out nothing was taken from the vault in question. This made Harry even more interested, for clearly the robbers had effortlessly broken in and looked around the vault before leaving…so why did they take nothing?

"The goblins insist nothing was taken, for the vault was in fact emptied earlier that very same day," read off Hermione, who was also beginning to look curious even though she obviously didn't have an account there.

Any further deliberation was stopped cold by the sudden presence of the potions master at Hogwarts, Professor Snape.

Harry wasn't looking forward to having him for two hours when he got his timetable on the second day of term, and his instincts proved him right when Snape (as everyone, except the Slytherins called him, among other things) proved in his first class to make Harry go through hell and back in his lesson.

* * *

The potions room burst open almost as soon as everyone had begun to get restless, almost as if the professor wanted a dramatic entrance.

A few eyebrows were raised at his cliché villainous entrance, robes billowing behind him and with a cold glare on his face, silently daring anyone to laugh. Finding no one so foolish, his eyes pierced the class with what would turn out to be his signature glare, before going on a well-practiced rant about how potions was not a path for the weak. He lingered for a moment on Neville Longbottom for a moment in the same way a panther looks at a recent kill before deciding to play with it.

Harry was feeling sorry for the little fat boy before Snape finally found him. The temperature in the room dropped another icy degree as Snape actually seemed to grow more hateful.

"Well, well," he started, beginning to move around his desk, "Harry Potter, our new celebrity."

His lip curled inwards when he spat out the last word, causing the Slytherins in the room to snigger.

Snape wasn't done however, "Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he asked suddenly.

Harry was caught off guard by the sudden questioning but he routed in his memory for the answer. The Dursley's had never really supported him in his previous schooling and he had surprised himself with his own thirst for knowledge and his retentive skills.

'**_Magical drafts and potions_**_ mentioned wormwood twice in relation to potions, both in the same recipe' _Harry thought.

"Err…they come together to make a sleeping potion, a very powerful one in fact, sir." Harry said with some confidence, having never really answered a vocal question in class before.

The slight nod he received from Hermione gave him some hope that his answer was right but Snape apparently wasn't letting him off that easily.

"Tell me Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" he asked.

'_Damn'_ Harry thought, '_what the hell is one of those?'_

His mind stretched back and scoured what he could remember from **One thousand herbs and fungi** and came up with nothing. The potions book was slightly more useful, having a description of what the object was, a stone but little else

…_Wait, that was it! It was a stomach stone from goats!'_

"I think sir, you find it in the stomach of goats that have been pasteurized on magically fertile land," Harry answered after a moment of consideration, more confidently this time.

Snape's scowl at his second correct answer had him frowning slightly.

He liked that Snape was not treating him as the Boy-Who-Lived but this was borderline abuse for no discernable reason he could think of. Snape withdrew from questioning him further and simply flicked the blackboard with his wand, telling everyone they had one hour to prepare the selected potion. Having noticed Hermione's aptitude and eagerness, even whilst Snape was questioning him, he decided to collaborate in this first potion class. She agreed readily, impressed that he had read and actually enjoyed the quietly brilliant writings of Arsenius Jigger. Whilst he had questionable opinions on the uses of poisons, the man clearly knew what he was writing about.

Their two potions were going well and they chatted quietly about their impressions thus far about Hogwarts and wizards in general. Snape had kept far away from their table up untill now, and he had concentrated much of his time to correcting the measurements of several 'dunderheads'. Harry could sort of see why he was being so hostile towards the people who were getting it wrong, as every potions books warns against the adverse affects that can happen even when handling simple ingredients.

Ron and Neville were beginning what Harry thought was going to be a five year long tradition of melting Neville's cauldron. Thankfully, Snape had at least seemed prepared for this, vanishing the contents of the vat before it sprayed over everyone. Muttering lowly to himself about how the cauldron was in a much, MUCH better place now and how much he wished he was too, he strode away to help the Slytherin table.

* * *

At the end of two classes in which Snape had dragged him through the blender, even after he had presented a decent potion and Hermione a pretty damn perfect one, Harry decided to stay behind and confront Snape over his treatment of him. He had not escaped the Dursleys in order to be bullied here and the boy was emboldened for the first time in his life with the support of a growing group of friends.

Snape glanced up at him, "Yes, Mr Potter?" he said, dangerously quietly.

'_Why did this boy have to have her eyes?' _he thought in despair, '_why did he have to have her talent?'_

"Sir, with all due respect, I want to ask you why you have treated me so unfairly these past few days. I have done nothing to antagonise or offended you and I want to know what your problem with me is," Harry stated with a polite tone but with a stare to back up his words.

He knew he spoke differently than many of his peers but when you had nothing to read but the books Dudley's unimaginative relatives gave him to store in Harry's room, the dictionary was often a better choice.

Snape was having an internal battle himself. '_The boy is so bloody like his father. He has his looks, his voice and his defiance. _

_And also his spine,' _a smaller voice inside him said.

'_Lilly's son…well, I can see her in him, though he has been abused a fair amount,' _an unusual feeling of anger welled up at the mistreatment of this child, so like his younger self, almost totally alone before Hogwarts.

'_Almost… _

_Lilly. _

_I owe it to her. And perhaps the boy is not as insufferable as his father. He at least appears to be respectful. He isn't completly reckless either...oh, very well.'_

Snape had finished his deliberation as he looked into Harry's eyes for the first time.

_'__Her eyes.'_

"Mr Potter, I feel I have misjudged you somewhat. Though I will not explain at this time exactly why, I think I can get past this and see my way into treating you slightly," and at this a smirked a little, "better. If you continue to do well in this class, we shall have no further problems between us…Harry."

The boy himself was slightly confused at what Snape had just said, along with the mysterious look the black eyes of the professor gave him.

"Thank you, sir. I hope I can do well here." Harry said before quietly excusing himself to catch up with his friends.

* * *

Whilst Harry was still none the wiser about exactly what Professor Snape was referring too, his attitude towards him, and indeed everyone in his class, had improved somewhat after their conversation.

Whilst he was still a cold, cold bastard to many, including Ron who excelled at being underwhelming in his lesson, Neville and some other flagging students had begun to be given grudging help from the teacher. The first few lessons appeared to be just a means as to put the fear of god into everyone so they wouldn't cock up and kill everyone in the class with an explosion. Still...his style left much to be desired, though everyone was starting to do better,

Potions class was still nowhere near the Gryffindor's favourite subject but it had risen up a few notches. History of Magic in particular was becoming the new horrible class, as it became apparent to the first years that Binns was never, ever going to get interesting. Harry was beginning to look forward to the rest of the term, wondering exactly how all of these events were going to affect his time here.

**Authors note**

**I know I'm confronting this early on compared to the canon but this story's Harry has already begun to grow as a person. I also didn't want Snape to be the complete and utter bastard he was in the canon with his creepy as hell obsession with Lilly and his hateful crusade against Potter. In my opinion, he wasn't redeemed very well though I like the idea of him being a good guy under everything, unfortunately he had done so many evil things by that point it wasn't believable. **

**Of course, feel free to input with your own theories about this.**

**Thanks for reading, and do please review if you can.**


	7. Chapter 6: The Elder Conundrum

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 6

Albus Dumbledore had not felt as bubbly in years.

Many who knew him commented on the twinkle in his eyes, so long absent from him or his new found ability to laugh and be less serious again. His old wand, so long unused, was far more a part of him than the powerful Elder wand he had replaced it with. All those old magic works he had performed came back to him, taking him back to a time before the plotting, the 'greater good' and Gellert Grindelwald had destroyed his life.

He realised that ever since, the Elder wand had stopped him moving on from those days after that fateful duel. Dumbledore had begun to trust anyone willing to serve what he deemed 'the light', paranoid to share his plans with these people at the expense of their lives, for sharing with Gellert had utterly broken him in the end. He admitted ashamedly to himself that he had become as Voldemort was, unwilling to trust, no one to love and somewhat okay with that situation.

Now though, he as on the way back from his own failures… unfortunately he had hit a snag in that the wand of Destiny, that infernal device that was a symbol for everything he was willing to do for power, was intact after many of his efforts to destroy it.

Vanishing the wand did nothing; disintegration was only slightly more effective because it worked for around about five minutes before the wand reformed.

Incineration merely set fire to his desk and his beard, which he patted out half-amused, half-irritated. Fawkes always had an aversion to the wand and could do nothing to destroy it.

Several truly powerful spells safely conducted in that marvellous room that was and was not failed to destroy or harm the wand very much.

Dumbledore was now wondering how he was supposed to deal with the wand. He was not so foolish to believe that he would live forever or that any traps he could place around or on the wand would last very long after his demise. Scratching his head in bemusement, he found he was for the first time in years enjoying working on a project that seemed beyond his ability to solve. The seriousness of the situation did not dampen how much interest and attention he was pouring into fixing this problem.

Actual containment of the wand was proving difficult too. It caused Fawkes to burst into flames and die when he swallowed it. Apologising to the irritated chick, the headmaster pondered.

And pondered and pondered.

It was going to be a long night.

**Authors Notes**

**These shorter chapters will show events that are happening outside of the main point of view. Not all of them are going to be Dumbledore, I just wanted to show that he hasn't fixed himself quite yet but he is coming on in leaps and bounds. The Elder wand will be dealt with and left alone for a while at the end of the year. **

**Why do you think Dumbledore kept the wand in canon?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 7: Up in the Air

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 7

It was fair to say that Draco Malfoy was an altogether disagreeable person in Harry's opinion.

Whilst he recognised that the boy had grown up surrounded by his elitist spewing parents, Malfoy himself was a bully and an incredibly smug prick in and out of class. He seemed particularly hostile towards Muggle-borns including Hermione, who was doing her best to ignore him altogether at this point.

Harry had caught her crying twice in two different corridors before she began to cope a little better. Ron of course was being his usual affable self; on Wednesday he had to serve his third detention for 'attempting to throttle with extreme prejudice' with McGonagall. The sentence would have been higher, but he was, however grudgingly, defending a fellow lion. No one messed with a Gryffindor and got away with it.

Malfoy seemed to be getting the message though, and with Snape becoming slightly less prejudiced against the rest of the houses, he was happy to slink off with his 'muscle' after one or two snide comments, though Harry wasn't sure how long the peace would last.

Thursday was looked forward to by both Slytherin and Gryffindor because that was when they would first begin how to fly a broomstick.

There were many hilarious and ridiculous stories going up and down the breakfast table about various misdemeanours in the air. For some reason, Ron was gleefully talking about when he nearly hit a hang glider once. Harry was really looking forward to flying lessons and had already begun reading **Quidditch through the Ages**, found by a grateful Hermione in the library a few days after the last incident with Malfoy.

Whilst reading more about the cushioning charm, (which he was relieved to find out was on his broomstick) Neville received another package from his grandmother whom he had apparently lived with since he was very young. Harry was unsure whether his parents were alive or not, and so he hadn't talked to Neville about anything yet.

The parcel contained a Remembrall, a glass orb which filled with red smoke when you forgot something.

Of course, it doesn't tell you what you had forgotten leading to an interesting paradox with a cycle of forgetfulness. Apparently the things were used as alerts in hospitals and offices, as a warning to check everything.

Neville had been given it as a last resort by his grandmother since he was fairly bad at remembering, well anything. Harry was not really paying attention however; he had already begun to become obsessed with the sport of Quidditch and was looking forward to watching the school games which took place throughout the year.

Hermione was similarly engaged with **Hogwarts: A History** once again and Harry made a mental note to himself to read that book as well. If the ceiling of the Great Hall was anything to go on, Hogwarts was full of wonders that he wanted to learn about.

* * *

Madame Hooch started their class on flying by telling them that the broomstick was not necessarily dangerous as long as precautions were taken.

Apparently bending down to pick up the stick was far too 'Muggle' and so they had to use magic to call them up. Harry's broom shot up to his hand whilst the rest of the group seemed to struggle a little with theirs. The only other broom that had flown up was Malfoy's, and Harry flashed a grin at the other boy. Was it his imagination or did he get a faint smile back. Ron's broom had lifted enough for him to grab it on the third attempt, whilst others were gaining enough confidence lift their brooms up.

"Now, you must push up from the ground hard, leaning forward slightly on the broom to make sure you don't overbalance yourself. Think carefully about maintain control not just of the broom but yourselves as well. Panic is your main enemy in the air," Madame Hooch said as she checked each person's grip on their broom.

"Now, on my whistle, those who are ready will begin," she ordered, kindly giving the more nervous of the class a way to see how others coped first.

Harry kicked off from the ground on her sharp whistle, feeling the normal jolt through his legs as he did so.

But then… He felt the strange sensation of hovering above the ground through no discernable means of support other than the long polished broom he sat upon.

Harry looked around to see if he had enough space to move about to see that five others had taken off successfully. Malfoy was already moving in controlled slow laps of the gathering students and Harry copied what the other boy was doing, turning his broom this way and that whilst willing it to go forwards.

It seemed to be working well and Malfoy nodded at his fellow flier, "All right, scar head?" he said without his usual hint of malice despite the usual insult. Harry nodded gleefully back as he was loving the sensation of flight.

Draco Malfoy looked back at the happy figure on the broomstick in bemusement. This was clearly his first time on a broom and he wore the same delighted face that he himself had when he began his private lessons several years ago. '_Potter was clearly talented'_, the boy grudgingly thought. It was a shame that a wizard such as him had fallen prey already to the foolish opinions that Muggle loving old fool Dumbledore possessed in spades.

Harry rose a little higher as more students joined him in the air. Most were clearly still afraid of flying and stayed close to the ground so the other fliers who were already in the air rose up to give them more space. Madame Hooch had ascertained that the last students were safely hovering in the air before flying up to the advanced group.

Fixing them with a stern glare, "I don't want anyone going over one hundred feet in the air and no flying away from the field," she said before zooming back down to help the other students.

Of course, it was only about thirty seconds before Malfoy was speeding across the field extremely quickly. Harry was experimenting with fast turns and manoeuvrability when Neville panicked on his broom and shot vertically upwards, clinging on for dear life.

Harry levelled his broom at Neville's and spurted upwards too, trying to catch up with the already flagging figure on it.

He saw another person at his side also chasing the broom and started when he saw that it was Malfoy and not Madame Hooch as he had expected. The Slytherin just glanced quickly at Harry before concentrating on where he was going.

The two were gaining on the rouge broom when Neville fell. It was lucky that both boys were paying attention otherwise he would have smacked right into them. As it was, they both reached out, grabbing an arm each before both their brooms protested about the strain they were going through.

Madame Hooch finally caught up with them as they began their long descent to ground level, firing a charm that levitated Neville onto her slightly larger broom before motioning for the two other boys to follow her down to the ground.

Harry was still tingling with adrenaline when he saw the glass Remembrall fall out of Neville's pocket.

As he watched the orb fall through the air, instinct suddenly took hold of him as he found himself shooting forwards on his broom to the shock of the other three.

The ground was rushing up beneath him as he snatched the ball out of the air, pulling up from his dive before landing roughly in the dirt. He allowed himself a quick grin at the unharmed object in his hand before mentally kicking himself for doing something so reckless in front of the teacher. He was going to get in so much trouble for all of this…

* * *

Professor McGonagall rushing towards him with a white face and an exceptionally angry expression did not make him feel any better about his situation.

"What on Earth…what were you…you could have been killed!" the professor was furious and spluttering out various parts of sentences.

The students looked on as Neville was whisked off to the Hospital Wing whilst Harry was forced to follow behind McGonagall.

Malfoy's usual group were packing up their stuff when Madame Hooch thanked him for helping with Neville.

"It's okay professor. My flight instructor told me to always to help out others in the air," Malfoy shrugged off the teacher with a tint of red on his face when his fellow Slytherins looked at him.

"What? He was in trouble, I helped him out and got rewarded for it," he said as Hooch walked off, referring to the twenty points he received for his house.

"What about Potter though?" Nott asked with curiosity.

"I don't know what happened with him. He came to help out Longbottom before just diving off to catch that silly trinket Longbottom had at breakfast," Malfoy told him with a hint of respect at the other boy's flying ability.

It would be interesting to defeat him when both could apply for their respective house teams in the second year.

* * *

Harry of course was beginning to become very nervous with the lack of punishment dealt out to him so far. The professor had considered him for a moment before walking off, him tagging behind with a growing sense of trepidation in his stomach that was quite unlike the pleasant one he had during that dive. Finally they stopped at Professor Quirrel's fifth year class.

"Professor, excuse me, may I borrow Wood for a moment please?"

Wood turned out to be a strongly built student from fifth year, looking at both Harry and the professor curiously as they went back out into the corridor.

"Wood, I have found you a Seeker," said McGonagall with an enthusiastic voice.

Oliver Wood looked delighted as he shook Harry's hand and made an appointment with him to go to the Quidditch pitch for practice. Harry looked questioningly at his head of house. She was smiling at him like he hadn't seen since the first transfiguration class when both he and Hermione made their matchsticks silver and pointy.

"Well, we can't really punish you for acting like a true Gryffindor and saving Mr Longbottom, and your skill with catching that little ball marks you out to have potential to play as a Seeker in a Quidditch team," she explained.

"Of course," she said, turning stern again, "do not do this sort of thing all the time Mr Potter."

He gulped as she drew a small smile again, "Your father would be proud. He was a fine Quidditch player too."

* * *

Hogwarts was in a state of unrest as it transpired from the other first years to the rest of the school precisely what Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had done.

In a rare event, the two tall Weasley brothers had rung Malfoy's hand profusely before grinning and sitting at their own table.

Whilst looking at Malfoy's blustered expression (which was the probable reaction the twins wanted from him) was enjoyable to most, Harry had been inundated with admirers for both his actions, as much as he tried to downplay them, which seemed to make them admire him more. Blushing a deep red when the crowd finally dispersed back to their own houses, he sat down next a laughing Ron, a still shell-shocked Neville and a reproving Hermione.

Catching her eye, he said, "Look I know it was stupid. I don't know why I did it but I did. We didn't lose any points and Neville is safe."

She responded with a smile and a nod, but he knew that this probably wasn't the last time he would hear about this, she never seemed to forget anything. Whilst studying once, he saw her read about six books in one evening, hefty though they were, and he was amazed at this non magical but still incredible feat of mental gymnastics. Harry had a very good memory himself, never seeming to forget narratives or details others left out of their work but Hermione was in a league of her own.

Ron was bolting down his dinner once again like he had been starved half of his life. By now everyone was used to his antics and had learnt enough magic to remove gravy stains from their own clothes reasonably well.

Harry reflected on Ron's abilities. He wasn't a deep thinker or a studious person and indeed suffered from an excessive amount of laziness that made it difficult for him to do anything. Yet he came from a very talented family and seemed to have a brain of his own as well. Harry found that out the hard way when Ron began teaching him chess. Both were fascinated by tactics and strategy, Harry making a mental note to get Ron some Muggle books about great generals at some point in the future. _'If only the lazy git put effort into things,'_ Harry thought on more than one occasion after being deafened by Ron at the game. It was incredible to Harry that Ron didn't apply so much of himself to everything else that he did to this one game.

Ron and Hermione did not get on very well. She was still in her nagging phase and he did nothing in his spare time so he was a prime target for this. He in turn was sometimes very rude and inconsiderate towards her and some others, yet was funny and decent most of the time. Harry supposed the meanness came out of simple jealousy, that others had a drive he lacked. He hoped that his friend would grow out of it soon, because everyone was starting to get a little sick of 'Weasley tantrums', as the twins had aptly dubbed them.

* * *

The dinner this evening was particularly wonderful as Harry had discovered a great dessert that Hermione immediately recognised as Treacle Tart. She gave him a questioning look that asked how he didn't know that, having lived with non-magical people all his life. He quickly shrugged and tucked in, leaving her even more suspicious of the overly skinny boy who deflected all questions concerning his childhood.

Hermione herself had good parents, her mother was a practising dentist whilst her father had moved on from there to becoming a medical professor. They both both encouraged her to be the best she could be. More than that though, to understand what was around her in the world and to find her place within it. Of course, she was now faced with many new routes and opportunities now that she knew magic was a thing; however she still wanted to know more, know everything.

The Boy-Who-Lived was mystery she was determined to solve.

**Authors Notes**

**BIG chapter here but I hope you like it. Malfoy is an interesting topic that I will discuss another time but for now. Know that he is a Slytherin, not a bad guy- but still filled with all the propaganda his dad has put in him. Next time we are going to be looking more at magic subject content, and yes there will be some fairly cool stuff in Transfiguration and Charms coming up. **

**Thanks for reading, please keep reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 8: Charming, Ronald,

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 8

"Now class, remember that the three building blocks of a successful spell are:

1. The Incantation.

2. The Concentration.

3. The Magical Willpower.

That is, the words used to use the spell and the required wand movements, the mental discipline of focusing on what you want to happen, and having the magical willpower, or more commonly, the confidence to achieve the desired effects."

Professor Flitwick finished his summary of what the Charms class had learnt so far that year with an added twist; he had decided to now teach them how to levitate items.

This caused a cacophony of excited murmurs and whispers throughout the class, as the students had been looking forward to this particular lesson since the amazing flying Trevor 'incident' a few weeks ago.

The tiny wizened old professor was much like the Headmaster in that he seemed to take everything in his stride. He allowed the class to continue talking for a few moments more, silently delighted that once again, more students were becoming interested in Charms.

"Enough please," he eventually said.

"Now, take note of the _incantation_ needed to create the spell," he instructed before swishing and flicking his wand in a slow movement to allow all to see.

"Make sure the swish is not too long and the flick not too small," he advised, "And add in the phrase **_Wingardium Leviosa_**, with you saying it whilst doing the motion with the aim of finishing both parts of the incantation at the same time. As long as your mind is focused on the object you wish to levitate, you do not need to point your wand at it, though I recommended doing so at least for your first few tries."

Seeing the class repeat and duplicate the incantation properly a few times, Flitwick snapped his fingers and feathers appeared on top of all the students' desks.

"Whilst weight has no real effect on the charm," he explained, "starting with something with a smaller mass will aid you in your confidence."

The students eagerly set to work, trying to levitate the feathers off of their desks. It was proving to be difficult as many had simply wafted their feathers to the floor whilst going through the motions.

Ron was wind milling his arms in desperation and was amusing Harry greatly before the Professor gave him a questioning look. Harry started suddenly as he realised he had not attempted to do the charm yet as when he was about to try, Ron's antics caught his eye.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two, sending her feather smoothly into the air. Not one to give up, Harry performed the charm on his feather twice before also managing to send it up into the air. Both smiled when the professor complimented them both before showing both how to stop their feather from spinning uncontrollably around and how to vary the speeds of ascent and descent.

"Is this used on brooms, sir?" Harry asked Flitwick whilst the teacher was showing Ron the swish and flick motion again.

"Yes indeed Mr Potter, it is part of the enchantment of the broom and originally the only one. Over time, more were added such as the cushioning charm and the varying speed modification," the old wizard said approvingly before moving on to help Seamus Finnigan, who was shooting sparks out of his wand that appeared to be setting a few things on fire, such as Neville Longbottom.

"Do you think perhaps the charm can be used on humans?" Hermione Granger asked eagerly, to no one in particular. Ron looked annoyed at her remark, he had still yet to make anything fly.

* * *

At the end of the lesson, he was still stewing when he and Harry walked out. Harry himself thought that Ron was suffering in the confidence department, having had several brothers showing a great deal of talent growing up was probably stressing him out now he was at Hogwarts.

The past week had been hard on the youngest brother too, as Charms and Transfiguration had started demanding more and more in both class time and as homework. Ron had spent a few sleepless nights not only going over his essays but, Harry suspected, panicking that he was letting his family down.

Harry decided to let his friend stew for the moment, knowing that any conversation would almost certainly lead Ron to vent at the nearest thing to him.

Unfortunately, it was at the moment that Hermione decided to start talking, ignoring Ron's thunderous expression and addressing Harry only.

"Hi Harry, you did well in that last class. I really enjoyed it myself. I was fascinated by the spell when I came across it in my books…" she said at what seemed to Harry to be the speed of light.

"Of course, doing it on things with magical cores is theoretically as easy but-",

"EASY!" Ron roared at that last comment.

Hermione wilted under his gaze and shrank back.

"You really are a nightmare, do y' know that, Little-Miss-Perfect. Do you think everyone is as magnificently smart-arsed as you? Do you think everyone has time for your gibberish?" Ron snarled, letting out all of his pent up frustration of what seemed to be the past month at least.

"You-",

but Ron never finished this latest comment for Hermione burst into tears and hurried away down the corridor.

Harry gave Ron an angry glance before taking off after the girl, his friend having frozen in shock with a growing realization that he went too far spreading across his face.

Harry wasn't going to wait for him though. Whilst Hermione was annoying sometimes, she didn't deserve to be Ron's outlet for emotions. He had noticed she had trouble making friends over the past few days and with a pang felt within himself someone who he could have been were he not famous or idolised, a lonely child with a library of wonders to read but no one to talk to.

It wasn't difficult for him to follow Hermione's trail through the school, judging by some of the wet marks on the walls she was literally bouncing off them and clearly not looked where she was going. Praying that he wouldn't run into Peeves or a prefect, Harry walked quietly into the girl's bathroom that Hermione had taken refuge in. He listened to the sobbing behind the locked door of a cubicle before he shook his shoulders and tapped softly on the door.

* * *

Hermione ran from the two boys in front of her. Before she turned around she noticed the looks of shock on both their faces but she didn't pay much attention to them as her eyes welled with tears before spilling them out and down her face.

She crashed into a few walls as she ran and attracted a few stares from onlookers but ignored all of them.

Hermione played the last conversation through her mind again. She had been elated when she had performed the charm well and interested when Harry Potter talked to the professor about the charm in relation to transport.

According to her own studies, few people could maintain the spell long enough to allow for any real flight themselves, but with powerful enchantments and with the aid of runes, several people had made some journeys across the channel, and even the Atlantic using modified versions of the charm on objects.

She wanted to tell someone about this, no longer content to just be satisfied she learnt something but to have a conversation about it with someone else.

Harry was becoming something of a star within their classes, astonishing Professor McGonagall with his efforts in Transfiguration and even seemingly gaining the grudging respect of Professor Snape in his class.

He was like her, a newcomer to the field of magic, yet had also excelled within it to become one of the best in her year. Hermione loved a challenge and having someone who started on the same level as her and performing as well as her pushed her into doing better. She knew she was still outstripping everyone in the essays and writing parts of the courses, but the practice sides were always going to be more impressive anyway.

Of course, she hadn't really spoken much to him yet but she wanted to at least try to become friends with him, eager to have another person to help study with and just…be around.

She was being foolish of course; she knew that now as she barged into the bathroom and locked the doors of one of the cubicles.

No one, but no one liked her here.

When she began talking with Harry-no, _at_ Harry, he seemed to be taken aback with her eagerness to talk. His friend of course butted in almost immediately.

Ron Weasley had never been that polite with her, in fact sometimes he was the person she most hated in the Common Room, but he seemed to have finally lost his limited patience. Hermione wouldn't have minded one person…but it was everyone around her who hated her. She began crying again, eyes straining and throat aching as she went deeper and deeper into despair.

She was not expecting a knock on the door.

And she definitely wasn't expecting Harry Potter's voice to come from the other side of it.

Hermione peered up from her uncomfortable position. She kicked herself for being too noisy but at the same time was slightly comforted that someone noticed.

"Sorry Harry," she sniffed weakly.

"No, I'm sorry for what Ron said. He's been worked up for a while now and…well, there's no excuse for what he did and if you want me to go, I'll understand but I just wanted to apologise for him and…everyone else too I guess. None of us have treated you properly and I'm sorry about that," Harry spoke quickly, pausing now and then to make sure he got his message across properly.

He was feeling rotten about all of this, particularly about being mean to someone as new to this world as he was.

Hermione was taken aback by the unreserved apology he had just given her. Her mind was telling her to accept and walk away but the rest of her was still sore from the insults and the crying.

"Harry?" she said after a minute, not entirely sure if he was still there or not.

"Yes Hermione?" he said almost instantly, startling her a bit before she calmed herself.

"Thank you," she said softly through the door, trying to put as much of the relief and gratitude she felt towards him at this moment through her words.

Harry shuffled his feet and said, "Umm, you're welcome, though really I should have done something about all of this sooner. Can you…can you open the door please, Hermione?"

She nodded, realised he couldn't see her nod and unlocked the door before pulling herself up.

Harry flinched when he opened the door to see Hermione's tear stained face. Her eyes were red and raw, her nose was running a little and she was still shaking slightly, swaying side to side as she stood there.

He bowed his head in shame and said, "I'm sorry," again and again.

She seemed to have forgiven him though as she smiled, a small, weak smile, but a genuine one, before she stepped towards the sink to was her face.

She glanced at him before shouting, "Harry Potter! Get out of the girl's bathroom!"

He looked at here in astonishment before legging it out of the door, bewildered as to whether she wanted him to stick around or not. Hermione giggled as he burst out of the room and finished drying her eyes before leaving to catch him up.

Neither of them knew it but this was to be the start of a long and beautiful friendship.

**Authors Notes**

**This was to be the first part of a much longer chapter but I split it in half when I saw how long it was getting. So Harry and Hermione are now introduced to one another properly and don't worry, Ron is going to be apologising at some point for his words, even if he didn't really mean them. It never sat right with me that the two let her run off crying in the book, particularly as both had been bullied in the past. Oh well, next chapter we shall have the feast, more Hagrid and a troll.**

**By the way, please REMEMBER that these people are children at the moment. Romance is in no one's mind...I don't know, until at least we get to third year?**

**Just to let you know.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	10. Chapter 9: The Beast Below

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 9

Hagrid was wandering around his beloved pumpkin patch, picking out the largest and juiciest pumpkins to send to the kitchens when he heard Hedwig's usual hoot as she landed on the allotment fence.

Beaming in delight, Hagrid looked up to see Harry and a bushy haired girl walking along the path to his hut. Harry had been visiting him every week now since the start of term and Hagrid found that the boy was as delightful as his mother and father were.

The boy also seemed to be one of the only people in Hogwarts' long history to eat and even enjoy his cooking.

Whilst Harry had at first simply eaten his rock cakes, which was a fine accomplishment for anyone who didn't have metal teeth, he had for the past few visits been baking with Hagrid, having served (quite literally) his adopted 'family' since he was five.

Hagrid was actually a fairly good cook but tended to put either the wrong amounts of ingredients into his cooking or left them over the fire for too long. Harry however, had encouraged Hagrid's interest and had talked and taught baking in equal measure, vastly improving Hagrid's repertoire of food until most of the teachers could be seen at one time or another, after a difficult class in the week perhaps, coming in to have cakes and tea with Hagrid.

All in all, Harry was fast becoming a little brother or perhaps even a son in Hagrid's eyes and it was with pride in his heart that he saw Harry finding himself fitting in at Hogwarts and excelling, yet also keeping to his rather courteous and generous nature that his stint with the Muggles had not beaten out of him. So of course he was delighted at the prospect of seeing both Harry and what appeared to be a new friend coming to see him this afternoon.

"Alright Harry?" the giant man boomed out in his deep voice.

"Yes, thank you Hagrid," the boy called out cheerfully back, before motioning to the girl beside him once they had gotten closer to where Hagrid was standing.

"Hagrid, this is Hermione Granger, a…recent new friend of mine," Harry explained.

Hagrid did not miss the falter in Harry's voice when he spoke about them being friends. He looked at the girl and noticed the fading red tinge under and around her eyes that showed she had been in some distress recently.

"Hello Hermione," he said cheerfully at the young girl looking uncertainly up at him.

Bending down, he said in a quieter voice, "You look like you need a bit of tea in yeh, right abou' now," gently indicating that she could talk to him if she wanted to.

Hermione brightened at the mention of tea, her mother especially loved the various mixtures available and her home always smelled of really fragrant tea.

She nodded politely before saying hello herself to the friendly man who seemed to be getting bigger the more she looked at him. Hermione was still fairly small, as most of the students in the first year were, and yet this man was colossal.

She wondered for a while as she was led inside by Harry about what could have happened to him to make him so…the mental process calming her down as much as Harry's presence and Hagrid's demeanour.

The inside of the cabin, well, it was more of a hut really, was nice and warm from the frosty, sharp air outside. The whole room smelt of various parts of different bakes: bread, cake and pies being some of the few she could identify. Hanging down from the ceiling were various cuts of meats as well as…

"Hagrid is that Unicorn hair?" she pointed at the silvery strands that seemed to glow despite the lack of light shining on them.

"Oh, yeah they catch themselves on branches sometimes and I collect the stuff for bandages," the man answered, looking up at her with new interest as soon as magical creatures were mentioned.

Harry, who was carefully laying out cups, saucers and plates, explained that, "Hagrid is something of an expert in magical creatures, particularly the more_ interesting_ ones," leaving Hermione in no doubt that the 'interesting' ones were presumably the ones with lots of teeth.

Hagrid gave an amused snort as he said to Harry, "Now Harry, dragons are seriously misunderstood creatures," the way he said 'dragon' made them out to be awe inspiring, which Hermione was quite sure they were – just, not in a good way.

* * *

The two students spent a long time at Hagrid's.

Classes had finished for the day with Charms, due to an old Hogwarts tradition of leaving most of the afternoon free for pranks, a tradition the Weasley twins took _extremely _seriously.

Finally Harry, who had been cheerful and talkative to both other people, had become rather quiet, fumbling with his empty tea cup. Hermione was concerned before see caught Hagrid looking sadly at Harry, but also being sad himself. She then realised it was on this day, not so many years ago that Voldemort (a peculiar French sounding name everyone was afraid to speak of) had come to the village of Godric's Hollow and murdered Harry's parents, and where he himself found his downfall.

Hermione's heart went out to the still little boy and she took one of his hands in hers whilst Hagrid somewhat heavily patted him on the back. This seemed to bring Harry around to his surroundings and he smiled a little up at the ceiling before getting up as Hagrid reminded both students the feast would be starting fairly soon.

The first snow fall had not happened yet but the ground was already frosting over as the group walked up to the magnificent visage of Hogwarts. Hermione was still chatting happily to Hagrid; the man had turned out to be extremely knowledgeable on bush craft, forestry and magical creatures. Since none of this was taught until third year, she quizzed him ruthlessly on his knowledge. Hagrid himself was delighted another student apart from Harry was willing to learn from him considering his appearance, which while he himself had come to accept as part of his being, others were still afraid of his height and strength.

"Hagrid, what's so special about tonight's feast?" Harry asked him as they entered the mighty doors of the entrance hall.

In response, Hagrid pointed towards the Great Hall interior, which was lit up by thousands of floating jack o' lanterns, along with swarms of live bats and swooping chains of orange and purple ribbon. The ghosts, normally present at meal times any way, looked much more at home to Harry in this decorated space.

Hagrid left them to join the teacher's table at the end of the hall whilst Harry ran up alongside the Gryffindor section to find a very sheepish looking Ron whose mumbled apologies to Hermione were quickly accepted by her with the promise he would not say such things again. Harry was a bit disappointed but not really surprised by the rather pitiful apology, but he recognised everyone involved just wanted to get it all behind them.

The feast itself was wonderful, with many assorted meats, pies, salads, sides, drinks and sweets to satisfy even Ron's legendary stomach. Harry found himself eating rather a lot before the sight of Ron eating his forty second drumstick of chicken stopped him for a while.

He asked Hermione about the enchanted ceiling, since she had already read **Hogwarts: A History** completely by now. It was apparently originally just a normal ceiling until one night Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor made it take on the form of the night's sky above them as a demonstration to a seventh year class about the power and beauty of combining both charms, transfiguration and rune craft to make something more. This was much enjoyed by the class and repeated requests by first year students to show various different skies led to Slytherin suggesting making the enchantment permanent and to show the sky above the great hall at any given time.

This brief history lesson was already more interesting than the drivel Professor Binns had droned at them in his monotone voice, leaving many snoozing in his class whilst Harry himself tried to make sense of the various rebellions against wizards over their history.

'_The other races do not seem to like our own, probably for good reason,_' Harry thought to himself on one occasion when he listened in disbelief about the day when the various goblin nations went to war with the wizards repeatedly on the same sunny afternoon in Ipswich.

So ran the thoughts of Harry as he continued to laugh, joke and eat that night. It seemed like the party could go on for hours when the doors of the hall suddenly opened and Professor Quirrell came screaming out of them, his face bright red with exertion and his mouth open in a loud yell.

"TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!" he roared afore the rising Headmaster, before weakly saying, "Thought you better know."

He fell forward onto the floor in a dead faint. Harry looked surprised at this. He had never seen anyone fall flat on their faces before in a faint, usually the knees buckled under you before you dropped. And what was Professor Quirrell doing down in the dark dungeons instead of eating this great feast? He pondered this thought for a moment before the students collectively started screaming and running around.

"Silence!" the headmaster said in a commanding voice few but the Weasley twins had heard before.

"There is no reason to panic at this time," Albus Dumbledore continued in a quieter voice.

His mind raced to decide how to respond to this latest gambit of the man face down in front of him. Should he take the bait and clear the hall? No, that would risk the Slytherin House, who resided near the dungeons.

"All students will stay here and stay calm. Prefects, you shall be in charge here under Professor McGonagall," he said, nodding at the prefects and his deputy head.

"Madame Pomfrey, may you please attend to our fallen teacher," he motioned toward Quirrell.

In a quiet voice only the teachers could hear, he asked, "Severus, please seal the dungeons. We shall be with you shortly once the rest of us have ascertained that the wards, the entrance gate and the walls are intact. I doubt that we will find anything, but we must take proper steps to ensure our security."

All teachers nodded before scurrying off to their assigned tasks. He sighed briefly. He was enjoying his goulash very much. Oh well, he thought as his old bones creaked him into standing again, a monster at Halloween seemed more appropriate than any other time.

"So…Trolls?" Harry asked the table at large.

"Yeah, there are a few around here because of the mountains I expect. Always wondered how to get on into Snape's bedroom," Fred Weasley mused as the others laughed.

"I want to know how it got in, they are not really all that bright," Hermione said, looking around as if someone around her knew the answer.

"Why now?" Harry asked.

"If Peeves wanted to prank someone, he wouldn't have put it in the dungeons whilst we were all up here. If someone wanted to cause damage to someone here, again they would have sent the troll through here."

Everyone looked at him with interest as he continued to dissect the situation.

"The only reason I can think of for someone doing this now, in the dungeons is if they wanted all the teachers and all the attention down there whilst all the students were sent to their dorms. The only problem is, I have no clue as to why they would want to distract everyone unless-"

"Unless they were going to break in somewhere else, somewhere that would normally be heavily guarded or watched," Hermione finished.

The five friends looked at each other, knowing that this felt like the truth of the matter.

"So what's worth stealing in this place?" Ron said interestedly, "Perhaps in Dumbledore's office or in the restricted section in the library?"

"Probably something Filch confiscated ages ago that was really valuable. He isn't the brightest, he wouldn't know what it was," George Weasley offered.

Harry was puzzling over the possibilities until he suddenly said in a new tone of voice, "Or maybe it's in a mysteriously sealed off section of the castle no one has been in since the start of term."

Ron and Hermione gasped and the twin's eyes widened as Harry continued, "Of course, it doesn't make much sense that the teachers would bring that to attention but…well I don't know, perhaps they wanted someone to give up trying to get whatever they are guarding. Hogwarts is fairly impregnable."

'_Except to 12 ft. high trolls,_' he thought before slapping that down.

"Maybe they want to lure whoever it is here so they can capture him. As you say, the castle is very easy to lock down to keep intruders out…or to keep them in," Hermione postulated.

"A bit dodgy, doing this in a school full of kids, don't you think?" Ron said with a disturbed glance at the door.

"I can only assume that the person or persons unknown who were willing to break into Gringotts for one vault without taking anything else would be very focused on whatever is in the locked corridor and not the student body that holds no value to them," Hermione explained to Ron, sounding hopeful that this was the case, though Harry privately had doubts about this.

* * *

The troll was swiftly found and easily defeated by the teachers, and the group left the hall that night with each individual wondering about what it was that could be behind the locked door.

Professor Quirrell seemed perfectly alright and was his usual self the next day, quivering all over the classroom in fright of various threatening gusts of wind and shadows.

Whilst Harry had hit a wall on the mystery of the strange happenings at Hogwarts, he was happy to reflect that at least he had made three new friends in Hermione Granger and the two Weasley brothers who were not Percy. The fact that Snape was looking a little shell shocked and his clothes had a peculiar smell of dog about them flew right over his and everyone else's heads.

**Authors Notes**

**Okay, so now we have the trio together without fighting the massive monster with wooden sticks they can't use properly yet, Dumbledore wasn't a fool that risked all of Slytherin house to see what Quirrell would do and Snape himself was smart enough to know not to go too close to the massive three headed dogs… thanks to the new people who reviewed and followed. It's nice to know you like the story. Anyway, next time we shall have our Quidditch match and boy, is that going to be interesting to look at…**


	11. Chapter 10: Not so Severe

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 10

Severus Snape was in the depths of an emotional crisis the likes of which he had not seen since his hated childhood.

His quandary was worsening his mood more so than the near miss from a Cerberus or the fact one of his favourite prowling dungeon spaces now smelled of troll piss. Ever since the Potter boy had entered Hogwarts, he had thrown a spanner in Snape's decade old morning of his true love by making him question exactly what type of love he felt for Lily Evans.

'_The problem is that I couldn't be happy for her even when she clearly found happiness with another. I was perfectly prepared to destroy her son when he arrived out of spite of Potter, and I always think about Lily before we both went to Hogwarts- the girl that was my friend, more than the young woman that I pushed away from me._

_How could I…How could I have called her that…that name?' _

The only logical answer, and Snape always prided himself on being what that wretched Black criminal called 'a cold, cold bastard', was that he had an extremely large emotional attachment to Lily, his first friend, yet did not see, '_no, I didn't want to see'_ that she had grown beyond that girl into a different person, who was still lovely but not _his_ Lily, his fascination for so many young years.

Snape cried then.

He cried for the first time in twenty years over the horrendous things he had done in the name of this pretend love, this imagined spite. He cried for Potter's cruelty for making him look for a reason to hate him further, which he found in Lily's growing interest in the wonder boy Chaser. Snape cried, for his soul had been crying internally for so long over his life and could go no further.

* * *

Eventually, the professor quietened in his seat by the small fire.

He knew he would probably take another few days to get over the harsh realization, and it would probably take ten years more before he got over the whole affair. Frowning for a moment, he realised that his bonds to Dumbledore no longer really applied to this new Snape…but that he owed Lily still for being his friend and for at least being regretful after HE ended their friendship.

Potter himself…his antics, his arrogance and his bullying still existed unimpaired in Snape's memory but now he owed his memory too, for giving his friend what he could not and making her happy.

And James Potter did save him when that utter moron Black decided to try and get him eaten by a werewolf. He didn't know what that fool was thinking. If his crime had succeeded, his little friend would have been put down. Severus would be dead...or worse, and Black would be expelled or thrown in prison.

_'Great, now I owe Potter too...could this day get any better?'_

Slytherin House was a shadow of it's former self. All the dunderheads sons and daughters of Death Eaters, _who had not even been in that house_, begged the hat to let them get in. For Merlin's sake, this was supposed to be the house of ambition, and these morons would like nothing better than to allow a dictator who wasn't themselves lord over everyone. Like it or not, intelligent, independant people were the first to go whenever a dictator appeared. Snape only survived by grovelling, and even then, had he not convinced the mad bastard of his worth of a spy, he would have been fed to Nagini a long time ago.

Malfoy's spawn, his own little godson, was a massive disappointment. It would take some hard lessons to teach that boy anything useful.

Snape wondered what to do about all of this.

* * *

Harry Potter would need to be told all of this one day, the potions master mused.

Should he write it down?

Could the boy calmly sit through his verbal explanation?

One thing the man did know however, was that he was willing to end the feud between himself and the Potters, as James Potter ceased to hurt him before the end of fifth year…and he even seemed apologetic in his attitude towards him for the remaining years at Hogwarts.

Snape wondered whether Lily had made him change so much, or whether the arrogant bully he grew to hate and fear for five years simply became…better.

Could he, the regretful survivor of the last war, achieve the same now?

Was it too late for him?

In the morning, he would go to Dumbledore and explain some of what he had admitted to himself. It was as Snape thought this that he had the curious notion that Dumbledore perhaps knew this all along and had given him the time and space to come to this realisation himself.

The professor did not know whether to feel angry or touched by the headmaster's belief in him.

As the man swept around the room to collect various items he would need for tomorrows lessons, his mind once again ran to Harry Potter.

The boy he knew now was nothing like the self-entitled, arrogant prick he thought that he would be. Whilst Snape had a much better attitude in public now, he knew that he would have to do better in order to regain the respect of the rest of the staff and at least the attention of the students. He felt strange as the realisation hit that he _wanted_ to show he could and would be better, to prove that Dumbledore was right to put up with him for so long and to show Harry that his parents were nothing if not worthy of his love. Much humbled, but so much wiser, Professor Snape went to bed that night with a feeling that he had never felt so strongly in his life.

Hope.

**Authors Note**

**Correction: Apparently James was a Chaser...didn't know that one. **

**This chapter was basically to go into more detail on the rather fast change of heart Snape had in an earlier chapter whilst also explaining what I consider to be a more likely view on his relationship with Lily and James Potter. I would like to know your thoughts on this matter however.**

**Oh, and to those wondering, I would imagine quite a few Death eaters would have been from Hufflepuff, which does inspire loyalty over everything else and not Slytherin, which exists for the power hungry and ambitious people who want to succeed themselves.**

**Thank you to all 1000 people who have read this story so far, I am surprised that so many were willing to read my story. A special thank you to everyone who is following or has favourited the story up to now, particularly for the reviews, which are as always, invaluable. And so here we are, at Chapter 10, perhaps half way through the book (unless I add more stuff, which I probably will). Next time we will have the Quidditch match and also a Transfiguration lesson, my personal favourite subject in the HPU. I would write about the dark arts class but I can't think of anything useful or more importantly, interesting those first years would be taught. Sorry about the short chapter but I think the next one is going to be huge considering the subject matter. Thanks as always, for reading.**


	12. Chapter 11: Up in the Air

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 11

_'__The origins and conception of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are lost to the ages, with no surviving records, paintings or prophesies from that period in Scottish history. _

_What is clear however was that a school for the magically gifted of Great Britain and the surrounding islands was sorely needed, as it was about this time that Muggles began truly to attack and destroy magic and its practitioners, due to the rising power of less pagan religions among the populace._

_ The Wizards council was presented with a grand scale building plan for a great school of magic that could be built far away from prying Muggle eyes (this was before the settlement of Hogsmead, which was in part, an accidental occurrence) by a group of highly gifted and celebrated warlocks that were of course to become reknown as the founders of Hogwarts._

_Academics agree that Godric Gryffindor found the exact mountain on which the school would be built, and the various quarries that existed further down the mountain ranges at the time provided more than enough high quality stone with which to build a school to last the ages. _

_All founders were agreed upon that the magical population would one day require a very large school with which to house all of its children, hence the castle having it's impressive size and scope. Exactly how long the four witches and wizards worked upon the exact wards that were to be enchanted into every single brick, stone and log that went into the construction is unknown, but eyewitnesses report on the large armies of house elves, goblins and rune crafters used to enhance the defences of the castle, making it impervious to whatever damage an out of control youngster could commit, whilst also safe guarding the future generations from the dark forces that ever circle around places of power._

_ The wards themselves are unrivalled in the world, better than anything either man or goblin has come up with since. It is an interesting fact that the wards were worked upon long after the school was finished, with the founders tinkering and adding to their strength until each met their death. Salazar Slytherin was the exception, as he had disappeared many years before._

_A notable feature-'_

Harry was interrupted from his reading by his captain Oliver Wood ordering him to bed before the Quidditch match tomorrow. He regretfully shut **Hogwarts: A History **before thanking Hermione for letting him borrow it. The castle felt more like home than he had ever felt at the Dursleys, leading him to want to know more about the swooping spires and high walls of the castle.

Whilst Harry always valued exploring the castle itself to learn more about its secrets, a bit of background knowledge could always help, especially as there appeared to be no set map of Hogwarts with the walls, the stairs and even the rooms sometimes changing around. From everything he had read and learnt so far, the castle seemed to thrum with energy with perhaps even the wisp of life within its walls.

Regardless, he had not been able to read too far into the book for his work load had tripled within the past few weeks with teachers cracking the whip to ensure their Christmas tests WOULD be passed at ALL costs.

Quidditch practices had also begun in earnest, proving to Harry that he was right to be afraid that first years usually were not allowed onto the house teams.

The training was brutal and Oliver Wood had shown himself to be an obsessive task master dedicated to dragging Gryffindor's sorry arse to first place in the Championship if it killed him and everyone on the team to do it.

Harry was loving the flying side of things. The snitch played right into his hands often, the blugers were easily swatted away by the Weasley twins who chatted away banally to each other and to him about several matters, such as exactly how to get a toilet seat past Filch to post home. Harry suggested enlisting the help of Peeves to distract the caretaker, possibly by flinging Mrs. Norris into the Black Lake. They chortled at this as they hit both blugers in perfect sync without looking.

Unfortunately, Wood had also made every member of the team exercise their bodies on the ground to make sure that they were stronger than the other team in every way. Harry wondered about that, as Seeker, the lighter he was the better for his play, but he was also honest enough with himself to know that if he were playing a competitive Muggle sport now, he would want to be in much better shape than he was. Apparently, the best Seeker's were lithe and muscled, just not developing the overly large arms or chest that the Keepers and the Beaters tended to have.

* * *

After two weeks of waking up cursing the captain's name multiple times whilst massaging his sore muscles, Harry was looking forward to the first match in order to reassure himself that the pain was worth just a little something.

He was nervous however; McGonagall had let it be known in no uncertain terms to Oliver that Snape was becoming insufferable about his winning streak in the school championship.

It was also the first time he would be presented to the school at large as the Seeker of the Gryffindor side, as he had been kept secret from most everyone to ensure that he wouldn't get attacked, doped, maimed, pranked or abused by the Slytherin side or their supporters.

Apparently, the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws were both keen to see someone, anyone win against Slytherin, in both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. These three houses then, were far more supportive of the Quidditch team when they appeared in the Great Hall. Harry entered soon after to continue the mystery of who the Seeker was.

Hermione was already there at the table and seemed to be in full panic mode for his safety, judging by the even faster pace of her voice than usual, rolling off again and again about the safety record of most Hogwarts Quidditch matches. He nodded mutely and was inwardly writhing in his stomach about the upcoming match but was also touched that she was so worried for him, even if nothing had happened yet.

Professor McGonagall had wished the team luck with one of her rare smiles before extending it to Harry as well. He gave a small grin back before concentrating on the increasingly hard task of eating sausages. Professor Snape was roving around the Slytherins, making them both ready and eager to thrash another team at flying, before he returned to the high table to talk dirt with the Gryffindor matriarch. From the looks of their conversation, if Dumbledore was not there in between them with his beard twitching in amusement, the pair would be trading fists instead of words by now.

Ron came down looking his typically disgruntled morning self before diving into bacon, eggs and brown sauce. The sight deprived Harry of his remaining appetite and earned Ron a few hard looks from students trying to enjoy the early morning quiet before most of the school came down for breakfast.

The new player sighed and stood up with the rest of the team in order to get changed. This earned him a few confused looks and sniggers from what seemed to be everywhere in the hall before the Slytherin table started laugh out loud at what Harry knew appeared to be a tiny and pathetic new member for the untested team. He gritted his teeth and carried on walking out through the doors and onto the winding path that led downhill towards the pitch.

Hermione and Ron were supressing angry remarks and hand gestures as breakfast went on and the Slytherins continue making a song and dance about the ridiculous line up Gryffindor presented to their team. The whole school looked on in amazement when Snape marched into their midst and told them to be respectful, before telling his team to get a move on and go change so they can go win another year's worth of Quidditch. It left the students feeling outright confused.

Why was Snape of all people telling his house to tone it down whilst also being encouraging for the first time in God knows how long?

Hermione and Ron looked at the billowing black figure who was sweeping back towards his seat. He nodded curtly at McGonagall, who looked at him mildly flustered whilst Dumbledore's eyes, which seemed to have been focused on the enchanted ceiling for the last few minutes, twinkled with light.

* * *

Harry was close to being sick when he saw that the Seeker received fairly little protection except for basic padding on the knees and elbows, along with greaves for his wrists and feet. The Seeker apparently, had to doge everything like a mad house fly rather than be hit, whilst the keeper and the beaters not only wore full face guards but body armour that covered the majority of their playing robes. He tried not to look too jealously at Fred and George whilst they set up.

He wouldn't be wearing gloves to prevent sticking charm cheating but could bear his wand in accordance to wizarding law which he remembered both from **Quidditch through the Ages **and History of Magic classes. Harry finally grasped the handle of his new broom. At the first touch of the polished handle, smoothed to perfection, he remembered with a smile exactly how he had gotten this astonishing piece of magical craftsmanship.

* * *

"Er…Harry? I think someone's been in here," Ron said with an odd voice as he went into the boy's dorm.

Harry adopted a quizzical expression on his face. It was just after the headmaster had quietly told the gathered students they could return to their rooms and that the Troll had been dealt with.

"What is it Ron?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Come and have a look mate. Seems someone's Christmas has come early," Ron said, and Harry could hear the grin in his voice this time.

He rushed into the room and on his bed, next to his owl; he saw a beautiful broomstick laid out across the sheets, with a letter on top. He opened it with fumbling fingers and so read:

_'__Mr Potter, hopefully this letter will find you well._

_ This is your new broomstick for the coming season of Quidditch as the school brooms leave much to be desired. As I'm sure Mr Weasley will tell you, this is a Nimbus 2000 and the very finest broom the Nimbus Company produces (and you must not concern yourself with cost. When I informed the president of the company that James Potter's son was in need of a broomstick he donated this to you along with his encouragements.) _

_Please do NOT treat this gift lightly and good luck in the coming match,_

_Professor McGonagall'_

Harry Potter grinned broadly at the second real present he had ever received, next to in fact his first, Hedwig.

Ron moaned in awe at the broomstick and Harry motioned to him to examine it, which he did with glee. Whilst Hermione smiled at the news herself, Ron seemed to truly be blown over by the event for the next few days, seeming to wish to break into song before every lesson.

Quietly, Harry had confided in Hermione about the unsettling feeling he had about another person's charity, particularly as this was new to him. She listened whilst Fred and George were filled in by Ron about the exact sheen the handle of the broom had and seemed sympathetic but not, as he learned, about this feeling but at the thought he had received few gifts before.

"You've really not had a nice time of it, have you Harry?" she said sadly before adding, "Well, you have friends now that are going to give you things as gifts. This is a good thing, as long as you don't take either them or the gifts for granted, though I suspect you will not."

Harry nodded; this made some sort of sense.

"Oh and by the way, you should fully expect gifts this Christmas, so you might want to start shopping around for things your friends might like," she said with a smile.

"Is that a subtle hint?" he asked with a growing grin, Hermione answered with a squeeze of his hand before running off to complete her Potions homework.

* * *

That had been a while ago now and Harry was waiting for his mail orders to come back so he could wrap them. All other thoughts were quashed as the team trooped out onto the Quidditch pitch. The morning air was cold, the ground was crackling under their feet as they walked; Harry was silently glad the ground was hard enough to allow them to kick off quicker.

Madame Hooch served as the referee and she waited for a moment, scanning both teams with her piercing gaze before indicating the captains forward to shake, or rather in their case, crush each other's hands.

Wood walked away wincing slightly whilst the others mounted their brooms waiting on Hooche's whistle. The sharp pipe on the whistle sound through the stadium as all figures on the ground shot up into the air as the crowd began roaring for their respective teams. Harry's hair rustled in ever messier ways as he banked and swooped around the stadium watching for a glitter of gold. He knew from practice that the snitch could not leave that area, so it was a matter of searching his surroundings for the ball. In in the meantime however…

He rolled suddenly to avoid a bluger that went careening through the air at him, its signature whistle as it tore around the players indicative of its dangerously high speed.

"Watch yourself Harry!" Fred Weasley called at him whilst smashing the bluger into Marcus Flint's face.

The opposing sides' captain spluttered and gurgled as his face erupted with blood. He dropped like a fly down to the ground and had to be saved from a crushing landing by the referee, who motioned to the medic to see to him before leaping into the air once more.

The Slytherin side, now a man down, took an affront to this disadvantage and were extremely aggressive as a result. Despite of this, Wood pulled off some magnificent saves whilst the Chaser players ramped up five goals between them. Harry had yet to see the elusive Snitch but was hopeful he could end the game before one of the gorilla Beaters on Slytherin took exception to his being there.

* * *

In the stands, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid were cheering on the house team whilst Neville was trying not to be squashed by the jubilant people all around him. Hagrid brought out his monster sized binoculars and could easily see the tiny figure of Harry expertly flying around the pitch.

"He's in fine form today, 'aint he?" he said proudly, to no one in particular.

Hermione gasped when Harry suddenly shot downwards and then up again with a sharp motion, seemingly for no purpose.

"What's he doing?" she asked Ron, who also seemed bewildered.

Others were now watching Harry's increasingly violent broomstick motions to the point that the Weasley twins were flying over to tell him to lay off it.

Harry himself was growing increasingly frightened over the fact that his broomstick had seemingly developed a mind of its own.

"Err, Harry? You might want to take it easy mate," George said as he flew closer to Harry, only for the Nimbus to shoot away from his approaching broom.

George had seen Harry's panicking eyes however and knew that he was in trouble. His twin was already moving off in pursuit of the fleeing broomstick and its rider. The beady eye of Madame Hooch saw the three players moving off away from the centre of play and she took in the bucking broom and the serious air all three figures emanated.

She whistled to pause the game but before she could move to intercept Harry's broom he was thrown from it and left dangling from it. Cries and screams were heard around the stadium as the adults stood up to assist if they could. Harry clung on desperately whilst the twins tried to get him to safety.

* * *

Professor Snape took in what was happening and smirked in amusement. This was the best the would be assassin could come up with? He swept towards the stairs that led to the pitch whilst casually tripping Professor Quirrell up and sending him sprawling into the people in front of him. Snape suddenly reversed his direction and sat back down in his seat, confident that Potter should be able to do the rest.

* * *

Harry was focusing now on the innate connection he had with the broom. Apart from physical manipulation such as leaning, the best Quidditch players communicated their thoughts to the broom as to where to go. Harry focused on that connection now and took note on the curious second mind influencing his broom. It was much stronger than his own focus and he endeavoured to concentrate on the broom, to will it to remain steady so he could get back on it.

Suddenly, the presence disappeared and Harry was in control once more. He swung his leg back over the broom and steadied himself just as the rest of the team and the ref caught up to him. Madame Hooch demanded an explanation before checking both himself and the broom. He assured her that he was not in control of the broom during the last few minutes and described what he had found when trying to control the broom himself. The woman looked at him with concern for a moment before signalled for everyone to get back into position.

"Harry, not that I'm not displeased that you aren't splattered or anything, but now would be an excellent time to catch the Snitch," Oliver Wood said as he flew back to the goal posts.

The twins each gave him a reassuring pat on the back and the Chasers all gave him a smile before shooting off to get back to the Quaffle.

The match began again in earnest with Harry even more focused onto finding the Snitch. The crowd roared many times over the next half hour as many goals were scored by both sides, making the score 180-120 to Gryffindor. Either side could win if they caught the Snitch at this point and it showed in the tremendous amount of pressure apparent on the Slytherin Seeker's face.

Harry was keeping calm in accordance with his training, though his thighs were burning with the exertion and the rest of his body was also exhausted. He had never flown for this long or this hard before and now understood the importance of his physical training. As he flew long loops of the pitch thinking about this thing and that, a glimmer or gold appeared just above Oliver's third goalpost.

Harry surged forward, shooting past his captain mere inches away as he flew after the dodging ball. Suddenly the other Seeker was there next to him trying to ram him off course, which worked against both as the Snitch unexpectedly changed direction and flew straight downwards towards the ground. Both boys flew straight after it into a spine tingling dive of at least 200ft before the Slytherin player chickened out about five feet from the ground and pulled up.

Harry shot down past him, pulling up only when he was mere inches from the turf, which seemed a blur of green to him at his speed.

The Snitch beckoned in front of him and he reached out his hand to snatch the tiny ball from the air, eliciting a mighty cheer from the stands as the supporters understood what had happened. His team collided with him in a hug that brought them all crashing down to earth, whilst Madam Hooch, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape hurried over to check Harry's broom.

McGonagall was beside herself, her team had won but the broom she had given to the first year had nearly thrown him off in his first outing. Harry seemed in a daze as he spotted the faces of people he knew cheering and he smiled and waved at them. Today was a good day, all things considered.

* * *

Afterwards, in an interview with the teachers in the Hospital Wing whilst being checked up on by Madame Pomfrey, it turned out that his broom had been jinxed by a person in the crowds whom Snape and Quirrell were searching for now. He was assured it would not happen again and was relieved when his friends burst in to yell their congratulations as well as their worries.

Hermione had him in a hug that many would consider a head lock and Ron was sat at the end of his bed repeatedly shaking his head and saying "Blimey," over and over again.

When he told them about the jinx, Hermione interjected to say that the person must have had eye contact or must have cursed the broom beforehand. Since it was improbable that someone had made it into the secure Gryffindor tower rooms and into his trunk whilst unnoticed by all, they agreed with the teachers in that the person must have been in the crowd.

"Who could it have been though?" Ron asked curiously.

"Well, it could have been any number of people to be honest; the games are watched by parents, Hogsmead villagers and by fans of the sport. Could have come from Europe or Asia for the match," Harry mused.

"I reckon Dumbledore will improve security next time, he might even come himself to make sure it doesn't happen again," Hermione said, thoughtfully staring out of the window at the already darkening sky.

"Still, great playing there Harry," Ron said enthusiastically, grinning with the thought of them moving up to second place in the Cup already.

Harry sat back and wondered who the mysterious force was that tried to kill him. Could it be who he feared? He made up his mind; he had put this off for far too long anyway.

"Hermione, when we get out of here I'm going to need your help in the library," he said.

She tilted her head curiously before freezing in place when he said, "I need to find out everything the wizarding world knows about one Lord Voldemort."

**Authors Note**

**Whilst I figure that Harry wouldn't really want to know much about Lord Voldemort to begin with, after a certain amount of time he surely must have wanted to find out more. What the man did, how he worked, what his followers were called…these should not have been things he found out in his fourth year, particularly when he had met Voldemort twice and two of his supporters in the previous years.**

** The fact that no one did anything to help Harry in the Quidditch match apart from Fred and George doesn't sit well with me. Everyone was pointing at him so why the heck wasn't Madam Hooch doing anything about it? I know that Quirrell's plan have been stupid so far in this book which seems to be in direct opposition to the point of all this, but he is supposed to be of a limited mind anyway, and Voldemort himself has gone even further into madness in the ten year exile. I don't expect him to be at the top of his game.**


	13. Chapter 12: Circles within Circles

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created. **

Chapter 12

Harry sat back from his collected stack of books, deep in thought about what he had read.

His mind couldn't really grasp the amount of fear, destruction and death Voldemort brought to the world for so many years. People died by the dozens in every day of the war, with the Ministry of Magic barely managing to keep the wizarding world a secret whilst also trying to save as many people as possible.

As he continued reading about the murders, the armies of corpses ravaging the populace, the Dark Mark cast over so many settlements signifying their end and the whispers of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, Harry felt the first prickles of fear when he thought about Lord Voldemort.

Before he had been an abstract idea, someone who had killed his parents but was gone now. After all this research though, it did not seem possible that he, Harry, had destroyed Voldemort that night. Hagrid's words about Voldemort being broken but not dead came back to him now. If the man was out there somewhere, he could be the one behind all of these incidents but then…

Harry tried to think rationally, Voldemort couldn't be behind everything, could he?

Perhaps it was a new threat who wanted whatever was hidden within Hogwarts, who just wanted to distract everyone from defending that task by killing the least experienced member of a Quidditch team, therefore singling Harry out as an obvious target.

Unable to shake the unsettling feeling in his stomach, he looked over at Hermione, whose face was white with reading about the deaths of so many. Records of the Daily Prophet were hardly as reliable evidence as Harry's source books, but even they painted a picture of blood and thunder across magical Britain and sometimes even beyond, reports going as far away as Albania, speaking of the Death Eaters' ferocity.

"I just can't believe it all Harry," she said in a low voice.

"I don't know what happened to him after that night after he killed my…my parents, but I don't think he died," Harry said slowly, scared to think of the alternatives.

"From everything I've read, he was terrified of Dumbledore for some reason. He never came close to Hogwarts or took the Ministry by force because of the headmaster," Hermione said with some fake confidence with an undercurrent of panic.

Harry stood up and stretch before patting her shoulder reassuringly.

"We'll figure this all out Hermione. We need to get going," he said before filing his books away using the levitation spell he knew along with the libraries own return system.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes, "You know we need to go to someone about all of this. Even if Voldemort turns out to be smoke and mirrors, _someone _is trying to get into Hogwarts to steal this object, whatever it is," she said whilst clearing away her own books.

"We can speak to McGonagall after dinner, she's our head of house anyway, she should listen to our concerns," Harry decided, before the pair strolled down to the Great Hall at a leisurely pace.

* * *

Ron was already there, attacking a large pie of some sort. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to Harry and then looked carefully at Hermione. She rolled her eyes; the day before she and Ron had argued about his habit about talking with his mouth full.

"Okay, what did you get?" Ron said eventually, before turning a little green from the various details Harry and Hermione relayed to him.

"Bloody hell, my parents told me a few things about the war and all but I never knew about all this…So do y' think You-Know-Who is behind all these attacks and stuff?" he said at first in anger then with a quieter panic in his voice.

"We aren't sure, that's the problem. We don't know enough about the world we are in to know if there are any other forces out there that could take Hogwarts or break into Gringotts," Harry said in frustration.

"Well, the only other person I can think of is Grindelwald, that bloke who-"

"Dumbledore defeated in 1945!" Hermione interrupted with curiosity.

"Is he still alive?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Yeah, Dumbledore didn't kill him; he just put 'im in his own prison," Ron answered, "But I don't think it's him to be honest. The place is nearly as impregnable as Azkaban-"

"And Gringotts and Hogwarts?" Harry interrupted this time, leaving Ron even more scared.

"Let's tell the professor first before we do any more thinking on this. We need to know of the staff are aware of this thief," Hermione said, sweeping off to the staff table to get an appointment with McGonagall.

"Harry, do you really think _Voldemort_ is here?" Ron asked him disbelievingly.

"I don't know mate. It's not like it's not possible. I wouldn't put anything past him from everything I've read. But…I don't know. I hope not," Harry said.

The walls of the Hall did not seem so safe anymore. The people around him ate and chatted on unawares of the danger that was circling around him. Harry shivered from the thoughts that entered his head, the feeling that he was being watched by unseen forces, desperate to kill him and everyone else in the room.

* * *

If McGonagall was confused by the trio's sudden request for a meeting it did not show in her face when they came into her office.

"Well? Miss Granger told me that you needed to speak with me on a matter of urgency," she said briskly.

"Professor, we feel that the person that attacked Harry could be linked to the break in at Gringotts earlier this year," Hermione said.

McGonagall's face tightened slightly as Harry continued, "We figured that the object within that vault was moved here, seen as Hogwarts is more remote than Gringotts, just as secure from thieves and also an easy place to trap someone should they appear."

The transfiguration teacher sat silently watching them, so Harry carried on through his feelings about the attack on him, the troll being let in on Halloween night and the sealing off of the third floor corridor flag posted to them that someone had been attempting to both steal the item and kill Harry.

"Because it takes great magic to break into Gringotts and Hogwarts, both without being caught AND the person tried to kill me directly plus sent in a troll to try and distract everyone without thought for loss of life that could result from that action, we assume the person is an agent of Lord Voldemort, or perhaps Voldemort himself," Harry concluded, watching carefully the reactions that had happened on the woman's face.

She had gone through shock, interest, respect and resignation within a few seconds.

"Mr Potter, I must tell you that nothing that I am about to tell you must go beyond this room," McGonagall began, "First of all, we know that someone is trying to steal the item hidden within the third floor.

We made the announcement of the dangers of going there public to ensure the thief knows where the object they seek is. We also know that the man is already inside the school and is waiting for his chance to steal the item."

"I assume it's a trap?" Hermione asked, concentrating on the new information.

"Yes Miss Granger, the headmaster knew the thief would find where the object was sooner or later, so we decided to ensnare the man in a tempting trap. We fully expect him to make his move by Christmas when many of the students will return home," McGonagall shifted in her seat, "We do suspect that this man is working with Lord Voldemort in some capacity. For this reason, I must ask you all to abstain from your investigation and exercise extreme caution for the rest of the term, particularly you Mr Potter."

The group sat in collective silence for a while, each within their own thoughts.

Finally, Harry sighed and stood up, "Thank you for your time professor. We will do as you advise in this matter," and he motioned for the other two to follow him out.

* * *

"So what do we do Harry?" Ron asked later in the Common Room.

"I think its best that we stay out of all of this. We don't know much magic after all," Harry said, laying out a reasonable plan that the other two swiftly agreed too.

"Hagrid must know something about all of this, I wouldn't have thought the teachers would have missed out on the opportunity to get some monster to guard the object," Hermione said logically, causing Harry and Ron to wince in horror at exactly what Hagrid had suggested to put only a few hundred meters away from where they sleep.

"Erm...on second thought, let's check with Hagrid to make sure that whatever he put in the place is safely contained," Harry said, eliciting nods from the two others.

"So otherwise, it's business as usual then?" Ron asked in relief about not interfering directly with Lord Voldemort.

"Yeah, we really shouldn't be screwing around with this sort of stuff. I mean, they set up these traps to ensnare _Voldemort_. We will almost certainly die if we attempt to set foot in that corridor," Harry said cautiously.

The group smiled, relieved that their part in this had come to an end before Ron groaned at the large pile of homework he had allowed to build up.

Hermione looked at Ron slumped at a desk before rolling her eyes and turning to Harry, "I don't think he's going to be moving for the next few hours. Do you want to grill Hagrid now?"

"We probably should, before he gets agitated by Christmas and whatnot. I'll be down in a minute," Harry said, running up to his dorm room to grab his winter cloak.

The pair set off towards Hagrid's hut not knowing exactly what they were getting themselves into.

* * *

"So that's the situation in a nutshell Albus," McGonagall finished, sighing in her seat.

The headmaster was drumming his fingers together in thought and the other house leaders were taking in what the trio had uncovered in their own ways.

"At the very least, all this means that the Dark Lord has taken the bait and is moving within Hogwarts using Quirrell," Professor Snape said calmly.

"That's all well and good but the plan was that he would be going straight for the stone, not after our students!" Professor Sprout said irritably at the potions master.

"Harry Potter is protected in more ways than one. We shall all keep a closer eye on him from now on, but to be fair, we should have been doing that anyway," Dumbledore said, turning towards one of the silver spindly instruments, one of the few that he himself had made, and noted the magical essence it was detecting was the right level.

"I fully expect Lord Voldemort to make his move in the Christmas break. He would be a fool to wait any longer, especially as the school shall be emptied by all but a few for a few weeks. That opportunity will not come up again until the end of the year," he explained to the staff assembled, "Whilst Mr Potter will almost certainly stay over for this time, Voldemort should be focused enough on final planning and actually doing the deed that everyone should be reasonably safe in the castle."

"Has Fudge been told about any of this?" McGonagall said with a hint of consternation, the Minister was not the strongest of souls at the best of times and every year seemed to slip deeper within his own title.

She was not expecting Dumbledore to smile and say, "Oh yes, the Minister knows something is up, along with Madam Bones and a few select aurors. Hopefully they will be all here to see Voldemort's attempt. That will go a long way in making Fudge take magical law enforcement seriously again, and it may even shake his trust in Lucius Malfoy… though I don't hold out hope there."

Snape eyed the headmaster curiously, "And Potter? Do you expect him to sit this one out?"

"Do you expect him to intervene, Severus?" Flitwick said in surprise.

"But of course, how could he not. A chance to see his parents' executioner trapped so close to him, why would he not want to 'wander'."

The room erupted at the sound of the last word. Dumbledore silenced them all by saying, "If…If Harry wishes to journey with us, I cannot deny him. If my suspicions are correct, I may need him to go down there at some point anyway. And…well, I want him to see the mirror, if only once. I think it would do him good to see what is in his heart."

The meeting was quiet for a time before the various members excused themselves. McGonagall remained however.

"You realise that Mr Potter and his friends might not wait for us Albus? Hagrid has always been the weak man in this chain of ours and his friends might easily take what they need to know from him."

Dumbledore turned sternly round to look her in the eye, "Minerva, you and I both know that whilst he may seem to be a child, already the pain he has dealt with in his life has forced him to be wise beyond his years. He knows our plan and he also understands what is at stake. Give him some credit and even if he does become clouded with emotion, trust Miss Granger to turn him right."

The woman could find to argument against what he said and so nodded and briskly walked out of the room.

Dumbledore hummed quietly as he sat back down in his chair. "Christmas is coming…the goose is getting fat…"

**Authors Note**

** Can anyone tell me why Voldemort didn't take the stone at Christmas when everyone was away? I mean, did he have no way to take down Fluffy? Doesn't he have a killing spell that can kill everything, along with surely some sort of binding spell that could hold the oversized dog down? **

**Seems suspicious to me. Anyway, we will find out exactly what Dumbledore's plan for this year was in two chapters time.**


	14. Chapter 13: The First Christmas

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created.**

Chapter 13

*As always, thoughts are displayed with _italics_.

The night before Christmas found the school of Hogwarts quiet and peaceful in its slumber. Snow gently fell through the trees and the night air was disturbed only by the soft whistle of the wind slowly churning through the forest. There was a faint mist coming in from the frosted lake and the various creatures, the inhabitants of the forest themselves, were huddled in their far warmer homes, nests and burrows than the two figures sat on the hill overlooking the lake.

Hedwig was silent, valuing the peaceful nature of the world for once and her familiar- her child, was deep in thought. Harry had only ever seen glimpses of the festival of Christmas before, either by peeking through his window to see the street outside, desperate to find the twinkling lights or by spying the occasional scene through Dudley's never ending TV marathon through the holiday season.

The actual start of it all, Christmas day, only held significance to Harry as the start of the twelve days of Dudley boasting before everything he received was broken, traded in or forgotten.

Like the lake below him though, Harry had partially frozen his heart to the fact that the ones who loved him were dead and buried at this time of the year and he had yet to be given the opportunity to mourn them properly or even see their graves.

* * *

Hedwig shifted slightly in her perch, the snow was not yet chilling her winter plumage but for her human, he was clearly suffering the effects of the cold by now. She hooted softly once and nipped him gently, trying to be there for a boy who had lived…only to be abandoned.

Harry looked up from his thoughts and smiled at his owl, his face coming out of the frown that was now hurting his facial muscles. He looked across the scene he was in. This was nice, far removed from the bleak, harsh beauty Scotland normally boasted. Whilst the cold was biting at his face and hands, the sheen from the snow, the glitter from the moon and the stars above and the…

_'Wait, what is that?'_

Harry moved from his sitting positions onto his knees, staring keenly into the midnight blue air. There it was again! An unmistakable spark of light.

The boy struggled to find words to describe the occasional lights that were now increasing in frequency. He looked around, wondering if someone else was there with him. The lights were not just coming in that direction, they appeared briefly seemingly anywhere in the sky around him.

_'A, a ribbon of light? A streak, a stream, a silky ribbon made of changing light…blast, how can I describe this? What on Earth could this be?,_

Hedwig was reacting to the lights too, but with less alarm than Harry. She gave him a reassuring look before coming down from her perch to cuddle into him. Harry held her close as the mysterious lights continued to occasionally flicker. He was now focused on them, his senses primed for any new clues. They found one soon enough, for Harry could now make out a low sound coming from the lights as they appeared and disappeared.

It was a hum…but not, more rhythmical and beautiful, like a choir or an orchestra, perfectly in time and in tune.

Suddenly, it clicked in Harry's mind what all this was and he gasped in awe before his voice was silenced by the wondrous sight.

What he was seeing, only possible to see now in the silent, dark night, were the magnificent and powerful wards of Hogwarts shifting around him.

He gripped Hedwig to him again and went back to his seat and delighted in the changing patterns and shapes the ancient shields made. It was clear the castle had not just wards in a dome around it's perimeter, but also on the building itself, as well as those that went vertically upwards, defending the entire nights sky from evil.

It was as close as Harry had ever gotten to a religious experience, and as 24 became 25, Harry Potter wept, for once not through sadness or through pain, but for the sheer beauty of the world he lived in.

No one disturbed the two quiet figures on the hill with mist rapped around the trough. They spent their little piece of eternity marvelling at the magic that had been performed so long ago that still meant so much now.

* * *

"Harry? HARRY! Merry Christmas!" Ron bellowed at Harry the next morning.

He rubbed his eyes at smiled at the memory of the night before, unsure of how much was a dream or not.

Generally, Ronald Weasley was developing into a patient sort of chap, but not so today, "Come on Harry, everyone else is waiting for you. We have presents to unwrap!"

"Wait, I have presents?" Harry asked confusedly.

"Well what did you expect us to get you, turnips?" Ron laughed before running down the flight of stairs that led to the common room.

Harry shook himself as he got up and reached for his dressing gown.

Most people had left for the holidays to spend at home, but Ron's parents were away in Romania 'looking at dragons' for some reason, whilst Hermione had, unbeknownst to both the boys, begged her parents to stay with her friends for Christmas.

Both Ron and Hermione were now kneeling by the tree where the presents had been delivered, along with the rest of the Wesley's staying at Hogwarts. Percy had been shoved unceremoniously into a chaotic collection of wool that Harry learnt was a 'Weasley Jumper'. Mrs Weasley, for all her apparent prowess in the kitchen and in shouting matches, could not knit to save her life.

Harry didn't mind though, he thought his green coloured knitwear was pretty good, although at this point the happiness he felt at getting presents might have been affecting his head. Ron groaned at his maroon jumper but quickly pulled it over his head to wear; Harry could tell that he missed his large family immensely even if half of them were here with him.

Fred and George laughed aloud at Ron being eager to open a book for the first time; Harry had gotten him the collected works of several chess grandmasters plus a history of military tactics in Europe.

Hermione actually sobbed when Harry gave her a photograph frame with all three of them celebrating after a successful Quidditch match. Her present to him got smiles from everyone, a signed copy of Hogwarts: A History with all three authors' signatures within it and a personal encouragement from Bathilda Bagshot, who not only lauded his excellent studies so far but knew his mother and father well.

'_That is something I might have to follow up on in the summer' _Harry thought to himself as he hugged Hermione before thanking Ron for the enormous supply of Chocolate frogs he had been given.

The twin brothers had presented all three with a bottle of 'butterbeer: finest draught of warming cheer' or so claimed the bottle. Having tasted it, after Hermione had been assured it was not alcoholic in nature; all three agreed it was a fine drink.

Percy had gifted Harry and Hermione a wizard's chess board, having seen both to be quite taken to the sport after Ron had introduced them to it. The prefect had become less pompous as the year wore on, either his duties had wore him down or his other brothers had rubbed off on him finally.

* * *

All of them went down to breakfast that day, very much full of Christmas cheer. Hagrid met them halfway down the stairs and gave Harry something that, more than anything else, had him near to tears.

"I knew you had no pictures of your mum and dad so…I err, asked around all of their mates to see what they had to give to you," the giant said before accepting a huge hug from Harry as everyone else beamed at both of them.

"It wasn't no trouble Harry, though you might want to go an' thank the professors for a fair few of these, an' for the book itself," Hagrid said as they walked into the great hall to see it literally decked with holly, magical snow and a magnificent breakfast spread that included hot chocolate and marshmallows.

Ron and the other Weasley's were confused by these fluffy little objects but all found them to be enjoyable when tasted. Professor Dumbledore was chuckling merrily throughout the whole meal, though he gave Harry a slight stare when they both happened to be looking that way.

Percy went red as the other prefects that remained came to sit with their group. Neither the twins nor Harry missed the looks both he and a certain Ravenclaw prefect were giving each other. Perhaps this was the reason why he had deflated over the last months?

After a bit of heavy teasing, they kissed until they were both bright red under a passing bunch of mistletoe that was lazily wafting through the air towards the empty Slytherin table. Penelope Clearwater turned out to be a right genius, as befitted the guardian of Ravenclaw. She had immediately hit it off with Harry and Hermione, who quizzed her mercilessly on what was coming up through the years.

Harry had learnt that most wizarding family's that were pureblood tended to be wealthy.

As many of their fellow students were from such homes, they had left to enjoy the creature comforts of home. However, many less fortunate had also retreated from Hogwarts to be with their families at Christmas. This in particular hit Harry with a pang of longing, even before watched Hermione send her letter wishing her parents a Merry Christmas.

One day, he thought, perhaps he could have something like the others had. A family that could spend the season together and enjoy it with each other. For now though, he was happy to be with his friends on Christmas day.

Fred and George were the masters of creating chaos and over the next few hours, most of what remained of the Hogwarts population was in a massive snowball fight in the grounds. It only got really crazy when Flitwick appeared, casting charmed snowballs at the fleeing pair of red heads. Professor McGonagall, her face flushed red from the cold and from the rather excellent case of wine Dumbledore had given her, transfigured several snowmen into far more impressive things, such as owls, cats and in one particular incident, a stag that gracefully bounded around the grounds for many hours before the bell sounded for Christmas Dinner.

* * *

The hall exploded into a cacophony of noise as crackers were pulled, exploding outwards to reveal their contents, along with generous amounts of magical blue smoke.

Dumbledore was, for some reason, wearing a bonnet instead of his usual hat and even Snape was smirking in his own way, once even laughing as the Weasley twins managed to plant a joke cracker on Percy, covering him in gunge. Harry himself was delighted at the feast before him. The turkeys were not dry or full of fat, but excellent in their flavour.

Not forgetting what Hagrid said, he walked over halfway through the meal to thank the teachers for adding to his photo album. He knew the transfiguration professor would have had some dealings with his parents but Snape shook his hand as well, telling him that whilst he was not always on good terms with his parents, they were extremely impactful on his life. Once more, Harry had to rethink the image he had of both his family and his potions teacher, whose black eyes now seemed very much older than Harry had previously thought.

Dumbledore however, saved him from any embarrassment by calling Harry over. He shook his hand first, Harry noting the warm but firm grip the old man had, before apologising for not having many dealing with him or many other first years, as this had been, in his own words, 'a fairly problematic year for us all'.

He did however; congratulate Harry for his excellent mock scores on his tests, showing a particular fondness for Transfiguration.

"I was once the teacher for that subject, did you know that? Yes, it was a very long time ago now but I am always glad to see people taking to it," the headmaster said with his eyes twinkling.

"Ah yes, one more thing Mr Potter," Dumbledore said before leaning in a little closer.

"Whilst this is not strictly a present because it always belonged to you, you may have it with my compliments," and with that he presented Harry with a package and an instruction to inspect the contents later.

The old teacher's eyes twinkled as Harry thanked him and returned to his own table.

"Minerva, I do believe that he is the best of both of his parents, with none of James' arrogance but all of his power, and with Lily's patience and temperament, without her temper. I wonder what he shall do with his time here?" the man wondered aloud to his deputy.

She blinked at the retreating figure and said, "I'm just imagining what it would have been like to have a James Potter AND the Weasley twins here at the same time. It would have meant the end of Hogwarts!"

Albus Dumbledore's chuckle sounded throughout the hall once again.

* * *

"So what is it then, Hermione?" Ron asked the witch as she turned over a corner of Harry's present again and again.

"Hmm…put it on Harry. I can see it's meant to do something but I'm unsure what exactly," she said excitedly.

"Okay, but if this teleports me to Pluto I'm going to be very cross with you," Harry mumbled as he swirled the cloak around him. His body immediately vanished from view.

"WOAH" both boy's shouted has Hermione gasped.

"A cloak of invisibility Hermione, how cool is that?" Harry said as he pulled it over his head and vanished from the room.

"Very cool and very rare mate," Ron said reverently with a tinge of jealousy as he ran his hands down the silky texture of the robe.

Hermione was reading the note that came with it, before reading aloud:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you._

_Use it well._

_A very Merry Christmas to you._

"He's not half bad is he, Dumbledore?" Ron said wonderingly.

Harry nodded along. Did this cloak really belong to his father? Why would he loan such a thing away?

"What can we use this thing for then?" Harry asked the other two.

Ron shrugged his shoulders at that, whilst Hermione became lost in thought over the possibility. Harry grinned at that, his two friends were so different and yet got along with everyone so well.

"Use it well," he murmured quietly to himself.

That seemed to be an invitation, wasn't it? He would think upon this later.

That night, Harry dreamed not of Voldemort or of horrors best left to nightmares, but of his friends and his family, together in the flesh, living peacefully in a snowy wilderness.

* * *

Quirrell moaned as his master further implanted himself into the mind of the teacher.

Voldemort was now in control of all motion in the body.

It would wear out his servant far faster; perhaps he only had a week left of life in him, but Voldemort knew it would be well spent. For the first time in far too many years, Lord Voldemort looked up at the spires of his first home and laughed aloud.

Soon, the stone, his body and eternal life would be his for the taking. Only the meddling old fool and his band of fumbling, bumbling professors stood in his way now. The Dark Lord went over his plans again, preparing for his return to power.

**Authors Note**

**This is one of the more important parts of the first book, when Harry actually has just a normal holiday with his friends for the first time. Voldemort (in this AU at least) cannot possess the entirety of someone's body without eventually deteriorating their health to such a degree that they die within a short period of time. The person also has to have some willingness to this or Voldemort can barely keep them for a few hours. This is a surprisingly large plot hole to fix and I know this doesn't really solve some of it, but I'll get to it again if it comes up.**

** As always, thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 14: The Trapdoor Shuts

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created. **

Chapter 14

Lord Voldemort dealt with the infernal hound within seconds, blasting it against the back wall of the room it had been guarding since the beginning of last year.

He felt the soothing feeling of killing satisfying the itch he had carried for ten long years. The curse, the beautiful curse that had been his first spell for so many killings had only failed him once, and he was pleased he could still use it with impunity now. The trapdoor had an interesting selection of locking charms and enchantments on it, as the door had before it, but the Dark Lord could not be denied and soon he was inside and flying down the pit.

_'Devil's Snare? _

_What was that fool thinking?'_

The plants were easily destroyed, fire charring the dark green vines but produced no smoke due to the spell involved. Voldemort surveyed the room for a moment, looking for additional traps before moving cautiously before the door.

If he knew Dumbledore, and he was sure that he did, the first few traps would be there to draw in however entered before the hammer fell.

When he blew the door off its hinges, he was surprised to see an empty room.

This didn't help his paranoia and when he detected rustling above him he whirled Quirrell's wand upwards very quickly before stopping himself blowing up the ceiling. Voldemort forced himself to calm, being inside the weak fool's mind whilst also being a mere fragment of his former self meant that his vast intellect was not what it should be and nor were his instincts and power levels.

Still…

The man observed the various keys above him with disdain; surely this was not all the professors of this once great school could come up with?

He accioed the correct key.

Then he frowned as that did nothing and the keys continued to flutter high above him.

The wizard then sent out a grabbing arm of transfiguration magic out at the key, before it nimbly dodged it.

Voldemort sighed through Quirrell's mouth.

His body did not have the magical core to sustain flight for very long, nor did it have excellent reflexes. He shot out towards the key, hoping that it was not so quick that he could not grab it. After half a minute, he had trapped the metal object beneath the clammy hands of the possessed body. He could already feel the body starting to die slowly. He did not care so much, the elixir could be brewed within days of getting the stone and Voldemort would soon have that.

He laughed out loud when he saw the chessboard in front of him.

He was taught Transfiguration by Albus Dumbledore himself, there was nothing McGonagall could do to keep him from undoing her spells around the pieces before convincing the door that he had won, since there were no hostile pieces left. Still, he mused, he wanted to play the game. He had not played a good one since his Hogwarts years- the Death Eaters were far too afraid to play him at anything.

The troll didn't even make him blink; a killing curse quickly silenced the disgusting creature before he disintegrated the corpse to stop the stench spreading.

Ahh, now…

Here was a challenge worthy of him. A riddle from Severus, the name was followed with a mental spit on it. The man would pay for turning to Dumbledore, he and all the other followers would be punished or killed for not looking for him. Scanning the fire with the inferior wand, the Dark Lord frowned, noting that Dumbledore himself had erected this barrier.

_'Why had he not done all of the traps?'_

Voldemort was questioning this farther before his subconscious mind came across the answer to the riddle. The smallest bottle, black as Voldemort's soul, would see him through. The last trap was surely Dumbledore's own design and Voldemort, for once, paused before opening the door.

What had the old codger done this time?

* * *

A pine fresh smell suddenly coming into the Headmaster's nostrils alerted him to the activation of the intruder rune. He immediately sent a patronus out to both the Ministry and to the staff room for them to assemble. It was time to apprehend their thief. Dumbledore smiled grimly to himself before motioning to Fawkes to alight on his shoulder. Now to see whether this whole plan was worthwhile…

* * *

Minister Fudge was in the middle of writing an incredibly long and dreary report on Goblin trading before the silver sight of a patronus burst forth into his room.

"Gather at Hogwarts, the enemy has come to us," the unmistakable of the Headmaster said.

Knowing some of Dumbledore's plan, the Minister stood and sent out a message to Madame Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour and the twenty aurors he had on alert since the start of the holidays. As he rushed from his office, he only wondered exactly who this thief was that had the headmaster so worried.

* * *

Quirrell's wand was out and glowing, pulsating every few seconds as the dark wizard methodically swept the room, looking for the powerful magical artefact that he had detected far away from this place but now had to pinpoint.

Voldemort frowned. The scans were coming up nought for all but the mirror, and yet it itself was unremarkable. A golden frame on a golden stand. Very much a large, normal mirror. He prowled around it, looking for any clues, any sort of indication of what to do next.

Stopping in front of it, he caught sight of the hideous exterior that contained his glorious portion of soul. It sickened him how low he had been brought by an infernal child and a mother's touch.

Suddenly, he saw the image shift. Excitedly, he leaned forward and saw himself restored, with his enemies' dead at his feet, Nagini around his shoulders and he sitting on the Headmaster's thrown whilst around him the Ministry burned.

But how did he get the stone to achieve all of this!

He snarled at the image that taunted him, satisfied that he was at least making leeway and with luck he would have hours to solve this puzzle.

* * *

"What's going on?" Harry shouted at the other two as they observed the large crowd running towards the third floor below them.

"Blimey, that's the Minister!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear.

"Ron, the third floor must have been taken. Voldemort is here!" Hermione whispered, shocked at the mere thought.

Suddenly, Dumbledore looked up, somehow sensing their presence. He beckoned them all down as the rest of the assembled teachers, the Minister and the fighters (?) marched through the door that seemed to be less solid than before.

Harry went right up to the headmaster and said, "We know pretty much everything sir, about Voldemort, the Philosopher's stone and what his plan is."

Dumbledore nodded before quietly telling them "You are all quite correct to be concerned about this but we have the situation in hand. Please remain calm; he is no threat to you whilst we are here."

"If that is so, then I need to go with you to confront this man," Harry said boldly, not quite sure what it was that made him say that or what made it so important to him.

Hermione gasped at his abruptness and Ron looked at once eager for an adventure but also terrified of walking up to Voldemort when he was cornered.

Dumbledore peered through his half-moon spectacles at the three students, so clever in each their own way. Were they ready to see this sort of evil?

Perhaps not, but Dumbledore had promised himself he would not lie or try to protect Harry from what his future held. His suspicions were not yet confirmed and he prayed to every deity he could think of that he was mistaken, yet Harry would be in the firing line by necessity if he was correct.

Harry was staring into the icy bright blue eyes that were seemingly X-raying him right now. He was determined but he was not so foolish to think that it wasn't dangerous for him to go down there or that he was being incredibly demanding and presumptuous for asking the headmaster for this.

The old man finally reached his decision and straightened up.

"Very well, please stay behind everyone and you may come along. If anyone tells you to run, you will do so. If we fight, you will hide or run. Please try not to get in the auror's way," he said softly, but with the edge of an order.

All three quickly nodded before following behind the old wizard. They were shocked to see the broken corpse of a giant three headed dog thrown against the first room's back wall. Dumbledore sighed before mumbling something to an inconsolable Hagrid. The giant remained, sobbing over the creature whilst the attack force began to descend down a trapdoor.

An imposing man in purple robes held up his palm to halt the Headmaster and his students.

"What are they doing here, Albus? We don't know what's down there!" he said in a deep voice that boomed around the room.

"Kingsley, I know who is down there, and Mr Potter in particular has something he needs to see. Three students at the back will not impede your investigation, and I will personally defend them," Dumbledore said.

The auror, Harry supposed, backed down slightly before shaking his hand.

"Good to meet you Harry Potter," he said with a grin, showing very white teeth before he dove head first down the pit.

A surprised Harry looked up at Dumbledore questioningly.

He chuckled and explained, "Kingsley Shacklebolt is one of the finest aurors in the force and a personal friend of both myself and your parents. I feel you will learn to trust him. Now, please follow me."

The professor stepped into thin air and slowly sank below the floor. Harry and the others followed on with curiosity. The sensation was altogether tickly and they seemed to have picked up a small amount of static when they hit firm ground again.

"Now then children," Dumbledore said sombrely, "please exercise caution. Whilst Lord Voldemort may be contained by these walls, remember that he will fight to try and pass us. We must not allow that to happen."

The procession continued on into the darkening passage.

* * *

The Dark Lord himself was no closely examining the mirror. Something was niggling him about it and he had found what that thing was. The source of the power he was detecting, the power emanating from the stone, was contained _inside of the mirror._

It was typical of Dumbledore's brand of insanity. Breaking the mirror would gain him nothing. It was more likely that the stone was vanished and the mirror would summon it or something like that. All of his examinations and his powers had revealed only a tiny glimpse of an impression of a few shards of wood, sealed within the mirror.

_'What could it all mean?'_

Suddenly, he whirled around. His proximity alarm had gone off; he had set the rune just outside of the chess room so they were not far away. Voldemort considered, Dumbledore might be his equal, but even in this body, few others could take him.

Even the full staff of Hogwarts probably could not defeat him without sustaining heavy casualties, something they probably did not want to take.

In his shattered mental state, the slightly delusional Lord Voldemort awaited the challenge of a duel after so long spent absent from others in a forest. He paced impatiently, preparing for the moment when he would kill again.

**Authors Note**

**Very near to the end of the canon that I shall be sticking loosely to. After the next chapter, we shall probably stay in first year for a bit before moving on to year two. I want to write more about students who can actually use some spells…which might feel a bit slow for a few people. The next few chapters will be shorter though, so hopefully that will stop that issue.**

**If any one has any reasons as to why the traps were so easy in the first book, please tell me.**

** Thanks to everyone who has read so far, in fact I think this story is close to two thousand views which is great. Reviews are of course, always welcome and thanks for reading.**


	16. Chapter 15: Old Ghosts

**Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter or the Universe J K Rowling created. **

Chapter 15

The Minister for Magic was not one to miss any opportunity fate brought his way.

Cornelius Fudge had entered politics in the aftermath of the defeat of You-Know-Who to change several injustices he had grown up seeing all around him whilst also trying to build himself a legacy.

So far, he had been unsuccessful on all accounts, with the pure-blood led Wizengamot blocking many of the reformist legislation and Lucius Malfoy attempting to both bribe him and his personal office.

Sometimes, Fudge had to swallow both his honour and his integrity and let Malfoy have his way- the new ward at St. Mungo's was sorely needed after all. Dumbledore had placed his full support around him, giving him both advice and credibility, but apart from him, there were few strong allies to aid him. The Longbottoms were decimated in the last war; the Bones family were also severely reduced in size, though Madam Bones herself was a formidable woman with a strong moral compass.

That left three suspect Death Eater families, the sadly empty two seats of Potter and Black, along with the Chief Warlock which compromised the old seats of the former Wizard's Council. The rest of the seats were either under common election or with neutral parties, with most fully satisfied to merely reside and not lead.

Harry Potter was an opportunity to return to a more promising series of events that would lead to better lives for wizards and witches all over Britain.

"Mr Potter? Harry?" the Minister moved towards the young boy and his three friends.

"I'm Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic," he said, stretching out his hand in offering.

The boy studied him for a minute before taking his hand with his.

"I know who you are, Minister," the boy said with a polite tone.

"It's good to finally meet you, even in these circumstances. I'm sure we should talk more later on when this situation is dealt with. And your friends?" the Minister asked, inclining his head to both onlookers who were cautiously assessing the situation.

"I'm Ron Weasley, sir," the other boy offered along with his hand.

Having rung it profusely, the girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger. Fudge made some small talk with all three as they walked along, earning some thankful looks from the aurors as they could then plan ahead with Dumbledore.

"Mr Shacklebolt, your team must ensure that no one escapes the end room. It is at the bottom of the staircase, so we will have the advantage of height," Dumbledore said to some of the aurors whilst using his own wand to monitor the single magical being walking around in the last room.

"Dumbledore, I don't understand why you have allowed these children-"

Madam Bones started before Dumbledore cut her off, "They will be perfectly safe behind all of us. If the intruder manages to get through our entire party to them, they will be less of a target to our man than escape and freedom. They are certainly not foolish and will not get in our way."

"On your head be it Albus," Professor McGonagall said, causing the headmaster to wince at the thought of the fury she would have if three of her house were to be injured by Lord Voldemort.

"And who is it we shall be apprehending, sir?" a new sprog of an auror said eagerly.

"With respect, Auror Tonks, you left Hogwarts some time ago. I stopped being 'sir' when you left here. As to the enemy within, he is the darkest threat we could possibly face," Dumbledore said gravely.

Faces paled as Bones said, "You…you don't mean…"

"Voldemort, or at least, a body possessed fully by him is down there, attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone in order to return to destroy us all," Dumbledore answered the unsaid question.

The group became far quieter as they realised what they were all willing to do to stop that from happening.

"Are we going to our deaths?" Tonks asked in all seriousness.

"Oh, I shouldn't think so. He has been along for a very long time. His sanity must be even less than it used to be and possessing the body means that he will not be at full strength. Ah, but there is little I can say to reassure you, let us just crack on," Dumbledore said with a lightness in his voice that didn't match the steely determined look in his eyes.

* * *

Voldemort was waiting for them.

"Ah, the old man and his weak brigade of muggle loversss. Are you here to take me to prissson?" the Dark Lord hissed at the group.

Harry could hear that voice which had been at the edges of his nightmares at last. The icy tone and pure hatred carried within it shook him quite a bit. He was glad he was at the top of the stairs and out of the way for once. His scar was also tingling, with small slashes of pain being jabbed through it every so often.

They wasted no time on words but fired off their spells as one. Quirrell's face snarled in irritation, at the cheek of their defiance. He swerved out of the way of many of the spells before swiping a few out of the air with a powerful shield.

His trained eyes spotted a few inexperienced eyes looking at him with something akin to fear. He ignited their robes, knowing they were not used to seeing such tactics used on them. Whilst they floundered trying to put themselves out, he concentrated on separating the remaining sixteen fighters and dealing with them one by one.

This strategy was working well until that infernal, un-killable Moody slashed his wand at the floor, shattering it and causing a swath of dust to block both sides view of each other. Voldemort desperately fired curses wildly into the smoke to stop the group linking up. He then swirled the mist towards the enemy before solidifying it and sent it speeding into at least five figures.

Watching them go down gave him a small piece of satisfaction before he spotted Flitwick, McGonagall, Bones, Moody and Albus BLOODY Dumbledore all lining up to destroy him. He knew Quirrell's body could not produce many killing curses but he fired two at the aurors moving to support the main threat. They dropped silently to the ground in death, causing the remaining players in the fight to resume attacking the Dark Lord.

The fighting was particularly fierce when Flitwick began destroying the walls and ceiling, limiting both Voldemort's room to maneuverer and also herding him into their attacks. His shields were failing whilst the attackers were pressing their advantage. Inevitably, a disarming spell shot through and he conceded that the first round had been lost.

* * *

The Minister awoke to find the room in ruins and an auror standing over him checking him over for injuries. After indicating he was fine, he rose to see a clearly possessed man with red eyes glowing with anger staring at Dumbledore.

Bones flicked her head his way and then back to Voldemort, "Two dead, Minister, along with a few injured and a new scar for Alistair's collection."

The old auror grinned savagely whilst pointing his wand at Voldemort. Dumbledore was cautiously beginning to erect containment charms over the prisoner before the man began laughing out loud.

"You think these magic tricksss will hold Lord Voldemort?" he screamed, before Dumbledore leapt backwards, his eyes fierce and alert.

"Everyone behind me, NOW!" he ordered, causing all presently able to dive behind him.

Voldemort continued to laugh internally though now Quirrell's own mouth was now screaming. Light burst from all over his body as Voldemort converted as much as possible into energy, a difficult and costly objective that could only ever convert a partial amount of mass into energy. Harry suddenly doubled over, his head feeling like hot knives were being thrown through it. It was all his friends could do to stop him tumbling downwards before Quirrell finally completed his last spell.

The resulting explosion obliterated what was left of the wretched Quirrell whilst nearly collapsing the rest of the enchanted room. The survivors were only saved by Dumbledore's shield and they added their own strength to it to prevent shrapnel and further debris hitting them. Eventually, they dropped the shield and peered into the dust filled remains of the room. Apart from the mirror in the centre of the room and the small area around it, the rest of the room was filled with rubble.

Suddenly, what they had taken to be part of the dust cloud swirled and formed a face none had seen for over a decade, a face filled with rage and hatred for the people it now screamed at. It shot straight through them, streaking up the stairs, over the now groaning body of Harry and out of sight.

The onlookers stared after the spirit in shock.

"Dumbledore, what the hell was that thing?" McGonagall asked, out of breath from the battle.

She gave another cry when she saw Harry keeled over on the stairs, "Albus!"

The old man snapped around and hurried over with her to the boy. He seemed to be alright now, but was shaken by the effects of whatever Voldemort put him under.

'Damn it, it looks like the scar is one of them...how the hell do we get it out of him?' Dumbledore thought worriedly before answering McGonagall's first question.

"That Professor, is the amalgamation of all my fears. I must examine this area before explaining any more. Minister, Scrimgeour, Madame Bones, I will meet you all in my office in precisely fifteen minutes. Kindly leave Harry down here. I need to observe him for a few minutes more, and any way, it is time we talked," Dumbledore said sombrely to everyone standing on the stairs.

The wounded were helped or levitated out whilst the remaining fighters left to either file their reports or await further information from the wizard that was now kneeling before the ash pile of Quirrell's corpse.

"Go on Harry, we'll wait in the Common Room," Hermione whispered, giving the now upright Harry a reassuring pat before pushing him gently towards the headmaster.

"How mental was that?" a white faced and shaking Ron said to her. She nodded, worried over Harry and what Dumbledore would say and more so over an escaped Voldemort.

* * *

"Professor?" Harry called out to the old man who was currently probing the ground with magic.

"Harry, it appears my worst fears have been proven true and now I find myself needing to give you certain information. Unfortunately, some of the knowledge is incredibly dangerous information that shall inevitably lead you to viewing your entire life differently. And yet, you need to know this in due course or Voldemort will use your ignorance against you. Do you see the dilemma?" the headmaster said whilst standing up to face the boy.

"I think so, sir," Harry said uncertainly.

The old man chuckled at that, before indicating towards the mirror,

"Lord Voldemort believed that once he took the stone, he would be immortal. As I'm sure you are aware, the elixir would bring him an easy way to ascertain a body of his own.

However, you may be wondering exactly how he came to be in this position in the first place. Well, when he arrived at your home that Halloween night, your mother cast herself in front of you, forcing Voldemort to kill her before killing, or I should say, attempting to kill you.

That act of pure love protected you, it is a magic so old and so little understood, yet possibly the most powerful we have yet to find. The curse rebounded, destroying his mortal body whilst giving you your scar.

Are you quite alright, Harry?" the old man stopped his explanation as he noticed the tears falling down Harry's cheeks.

He nodded sadly, transfiguring a plush chair for Harry to collapse on before continuing, "I knew that somehow, Voldemort had circumvented death itself.

Whilst my suspicions were not proven until today, when I saw him escape down that passage way, my fears were great enough that I knew he would come for you eventually. It was I that placed you with your relatives, with certain safeguards to prevent them from truly harming you. Whilst I had hoped you would not be there for long, circumstances dictated that you continued to live there.

I do humbly apologise for that though.

You see, your mother's protection could continue to work if you were placed with her family, her blood, and if you called that place home. Since it was the only place you knew of, so it was. Of course, now that protection is gone- well…nearly gone. You have identified Hogwarts as your home and this protection will not work anymore. I must think upon how to protect you later.

As I was saying, for ten years I looked for explanations as to how Voldemort could have survived that night. Only one presented itself as likely: Horcruxes. That is, the act of containing a part of your soul within a separate vessel.

Yes," he said in a raised voice as Harry looked shocked at the mere thought, "the soul is split through the act of murder, thus allowing it to be contained safely away.

I tell you this to make you understand the exact threat he is.

He _cannot_ die until he resumes his form, we destroy his Horcrux or Horcruxes as the case may be and then someone and anyone destroy his body for a second time."

The extent of the task made Harry sink further into his chair.

"How can anyone accomplish that?" he asked.

"We have time as of yet. Voldemort has been defeated once again, who knows when he will have another opportunity like this. Now, his Horcruxes are more of a threat, as they too can possess others to do their will. If any should get into a magic user's hands…" Dumbledore tailed off.

Harry blanched at the thought of someone coming under the effect of Voldemort's disembodied soul.

"Remember though Harry, we have advantages that Voldemort, with all his power, does not. Perhaps, if you find that hard to believe, you should look into this rather wonderful mirror."

Harry looked disbelievingly at Dumbledore for a moment, before unsteadily getting to his feet and walking towards the mirror.

There he saw to figures that he knew, he just knew, had been waiting his whole life to appear. It wasn't as if he remembered, or even recognised them. But he knew them, is family, his parents. For one brief period of time, they were together.

More figures began appearing; perhaps some had also fallen apposing Voldemort, others dying long before. Harry Potter stared at his unknown family, a beaming Dumbledore quietly took his leave whilst the Boy-Who-Lived knelt down to see the people who died.

**Authors Note**

**Just a quick one to thank all two thousand viewers of this fanfic and to particularly thank the reviewers who have been with me so far. More will be explained next time but please message me if I have stupidly left something glaringly obvious out. **

**EDIT:...I stupidly left some thing out. Harry didn't have a reaction to being so close to Voldemort, even when powerful magic was going on or when Voldemort's soul was right freakin' next to him. Sorry about that, fixed now.**

**Best wishes! **


	17. Chapter 16: Vatican Cameos

**Disclaimer: Once again I must perform the sad but necessary task of informing you that I am not and never will be J K Rowling. My only consolation is that you never will be either. I don't own Harry Potter and I certainly don't own the English language. Well...I think I don't... This is the start of the shortish chapters leading up to Summer.**

Chapter 16

"What the hell was that, Dumbledore!" an angry Fudge shouted to the headmaster.

The old wizard sat down in his seat, patted Fawkes once before considering his words carefully. Today, Voldemort had been expelled from England once more but this time, the Ministry HAD to be ready for his return.

"Minister, today we all saw conclusive proof that Lord Voldemort is still alive. He may be spirit, he may be in flight now but one day he shall return to wreak havoc. We must be ready for him. Now, in the last few months of the war, I received word of a prophecy that foretold the coming of someone who would defeat him," Dumbledore said whilst getting out his pensive from a cupboard.

"WHAT!" screeched Madam Bones, "why were we not informed of this, if not during the war, then afterwards?"

Dumbledore sighed, "As to the former, you know full well by that time the Ministry was full of Death Eaters. As for after, the prophecy was so vague, so easily manipulative, that would be ignored by all but the most paranoid of minds. Voldemort only heard the first two lines, I believe, and that appeared enough for him. If you would," he said, indicating towards the pensive.

In the pensive, the Minister, Madam Bones and the head auror saw the rather useless prophecy, the weeks Albus spent brainstorming ideas with both the Potters and the Longbottoms, trying to both lure Voldemort and also defend themselves.

As time wire on, the situation became more desperate, and they all rushed into a half schemed plan. The Potters paid the price, but had expected this eventuality and had taken steps to protect Harry. The curse responded because of the charms his mother enacted; they saw the damage through Dumbledore's own eyes at Godric's Hollow.

A second part of the plan to defend Harry was a clause in their will to the effect that if they were killed by Voldemort in similar circumstances, the headmaster had the power to place Harry with the nearest blood relatives of his, to defend him the best they could.

The third part of the plan was never relised, as Siris Black turned out to be a Death Eater and Remus Lupin was not only under scrutination for being a werewolf but also, due to his condition, wasn't allowed to adopt Harry. Dumbledore spent the next week and a half battling the Ministry legally but was thrown out by the pure blooded 'reformed' Death Eaters who had already gotten back into their positions of power. Eventualy, Dumbledore visited the Dursely's once again to say that they would have to keep Harry for at least untill his eleventh birthday.

All three onlookers had moist eyes by the time they fell back into the office. They had just witnessed their society failing their saviour, dooming him to be abandoned by them after saving their whole world. They were unprepared for the next bombshell.

"Now, Voldemort clearly did not die that night, as we have all witnessed downstairs. How did he accomplish this feat? There were several options I considered, the most likely, and the most fearful, was that he had broken fundamental laws and made...a Horcrux."

Gasps sounded round the room as everyone thought about the implications of Voldemort being seemingly immortal.

"Quite," Dumbledore said. "I only suspected however, and with Voldemort seemingly gone, few at the Ministry were going to ask questions such as these."

All three Ministry members winced at the light accusation before he continued, "Of course, Harry was safely away and the Order of the Phoenix stood down, albeit cautiously. Unfortunately, a few Death Eaters knew of the prophecy and were told to kill the young Longbottom family. I believe you are all familiar with what happened next." Dumbledore stopped for a moment and looked down, knowing he was responsible at least for those two brave people being tortured.

"All my research pointed to the Horcrux being the tool by which Voldemort stayed alive, but I did not wish to believe it. You see, I highly doubted that Voldemort could be so depraved as to split his soul," Dumbledore said with a sigh before being interupted by the incredulous bark of laughter from Fudge.

"Voldemort, not depraved?" he snorted, "I should expect him to be one of the most insane people ever to curse these shores."

"Ah, but Cornelius," Dumbledore interjected, "Lord Voldemort, whatever his faults, was a magical prodigy and not one I would have thought to fall into the trap a few other wizards have.

You see, splitting the soul is not just diabolically evil, it also is one of the only things we can do that actualy breaks the 'natural order' as it were. Horcruxes were discovered thousands of years ago, how many undying people have you heard of, apart from Flammel?

No, the binding process dooms the caster in some way, either they repent and die from the pain that involves or deeper magic arrangers theirdownfall through other means. Voldemort must have, in his research of the dark magics involved in creating such a horror, come across tales...no warning, of others who have made merely ONE Horcrux and failed in their quest.

He apparently ignored, or I believe now, deluded himself into thinking that he would be stronger than any oposition the world could throw at him. that is why he panicked upon hearing the prophecy. here was evidence that his downfall was upon him...and so it turned out to be."

"Now, going off of all of this, I also knew that if he did create a Horcrux, he would not make merely one." Dumbledore stopped again to let that sink in. The three powerful political figures were now gripping their seats in fear.

"Unfortunatly, it seems that I am correct. We must find Voldemort's Horcruxes as soon as possible. It is the only way to stop him permanently.," Dumbledore finished, looking to each person sat across from him in turn.

Both Bones and Scrimgeor looked resolutely back at him now he had laid out a plan of attack. Fudge looked lost. Dumbledore looked at him sadly, Now they would see whether the peace time leader had a spine in his body and fists to match.

"Right..." Fudge started. "We are going to come down on this issue hard and fast. Amelia, your funding has just gone up. Get our Auror section back up to pre war strength and tell them they have their war powers back.

Scrimgeour, we need to go to the Muggles and get the Raker initiative back up and running, the Muggles have grown stronger in the past twenty years. We will need their proficiency for explosives now.

Dumbledore, I'm sure you have other plans but you also need to inform the international confederation with all haste. Get us support before the Swiss make everyone sign a non aggression agreement like last time.

As for myself, I'm going to the Goblins and grovel if needs be for their were invaluable last time and we need to bankrupt some 'former' death eaters to pay for all this. Together, the Goblin-Wizard alliance of old not only built the Ministry of Magic, but also the impenatrable prison in which we house our most despicable criminals. It is time we reminded ourselves of that."

No one was expecting such commands from Cornelius Fudge, Minister for kissing Malfoy's arse but surprised quickly turned to respect and determination. Dumbledore nodded approvingly.

"Very good. I think we need to inform the higher ups in the Ministry if no one else. I would not be so bold as to say that the Dememtors should be destroyed, but they should be removed from the island at once. Perhaps Ragnok will have some ideas about securing that place a little better than before. I will see you all tomorrow. Please excuse me, I must speak to Mr Potter about today's events," Dumbledore said, bowing to them all before sweeping out of them room.

He was pleased that the meeting had gone so well. When Voldemort returned, he was going to be balanced by a resolute country, standing together...well, hopefully, anyway.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Thanks for the review pointing out that leaving Harry at the Dursleys as a second resort is a spectacularily bad idea. And the other that reasoned that Voldemort WAS depraved...both fixed now.**

** Therefore, the plan changed to make Harry stay for only a short period of time before everything calmed down, then he could go to a proper home. I will change the first chapter to reflect that line if needs be. As always, thanks for reading and any advice, reviews or intelligence of any kind is appreciated immensely. **


	18. Chapter 17: New Horizons

**Disclaimer: Once again I must perform the sad but necessary task of informing you that I am not and never will be J K Rowling. My only consolation is that you never will be either. I don't own Harry Potter and I certainly don't own the English language. Well...I think I don't...**

**New chapter that I somehow missed...**

Chapter 17

Harry surveyed his family inside of the mirror.

He supposed the emotion currently making his stomach clench and his throat dry was sadness, though life with the Durselys had numbed him to his circumstances. The dull ache he had felt when first he saw their photographs was back in full swing, though it seemed slightly worse this time.

His family was dead and nothing was going to bring them now this mirror was opening the half closed, half forgotten wound in his heart.

The mirror itself, Harry reflected, was ancient. Who knew how long it had resided at Hogwarts or what it's original function at the castle was? It seemed to show the person who stood directly in front of it what they desired most...or so claimed the writing on the frame.

The fact that Harry's mind was wandering was not lost on him. He wondered exactly what sort of damage his mental facilities had taken on if this was his reaction to seeing his parents- his parents, for the first time in something more than a picture.

Indifference? No...he did desire this over everything else...he just didn't...or couldn't express what he felt within him at that moment.

It was into this internal conflict that Dumbledore intruded into.

"Harry, I know you are probably still overwhelmed by the events of the past few hours but there are certain things you need to know," the headmaster said softly.

Peering over his half moon spectacles,he could see that Harry was either hiding his emotions well or wasn't affected by what he saw.

"Tell me Harry, what do you see in the mirror?" Dumbledore knew it was a private matter but was so sure that Harry would see something akin to what the old man himself saw.

"Well, my parents, and people I assume to be my extended family...on both sides I think." Harry answered back at the professor, giving a backward glance to the mirror before turning his full attention to the headmaster.

Dumbledore's insides froze. What had happened to this child?

"Well Harry, I presume you have some questions about our quarry as well as perhaps fears about what lies ahead?" he began, not quite knowing how much information he should give to the boy.

_'No...Not a boy. He may very well be eleven years of age, but he has not been a child in a very long time. Now steel yourself Albus, tell him everything. But EVERYTHING? How can I tell him about the Horcrux?'_ Dumbledore internally thought as Harry nodded at him.

"Sir, I don't understand as to why Voldemort was there at my parents house that night, looking for us." Harry began, "the only reason I see for us to be in the country at all, never mind our own house would be if we were bait in a trap."

"Just so Harry.

We knew Voldemort was after you and decided to use that to our advantage. Every effort was made to ensure your safety, with both your parents agreeing to die for you if it came to that.

Before that however, we engineered a trap for Voldemort. If and when he came to the house, he would be sealed inside it. It took a killing curse that backfired on himself to destroy that particular enchantment. Our friends in the Muggle world had agreed to lend us the use of some aircraft to strafe the house once your parents were clear, our own forces would appear a few minutes later to deal with the repercussions...clear up the damage and modify Muggle memories and such.

Unfortunatly, we had a spy in our midst that accelerated events forward. The negotiations were still being ironed out with the government when Voldemort suddenly turned up stealthily in Godric's Hollow, bypassing many of our alarms and defences designed to buy us time.

We had been betrayed.

Voldemort entered the house and sealed it himself. Your father confronted him only to be swiftly killed. Your mother of course, cast herself in front of you," Dumbledore paused to see how Harry was taking all this information.

The boy was absorbing it all whilst looking at a crumbling bit of wall. He could see the pieces coming together for him, and yet no tears, no quick wipe of the eyes did he see.

The boy was taking his parents murder far too easily. For the thousandth time, Dumbledore cursed himself for allowing all of this to happen, for he to have done this to a child, for Black for causing him to do it and to Voldemort, who had destroyed so much.

Too much.

"Sirius Black was your fathers oldest friend. They met on the train to Hogwarts in their first year. He was the best man at their wedding...and he was...is your Godfather. That man was secretly a follower of Voldemort, secret to even the Death Eaters. It was he who told Voldemort where you were and how to avoid all of our traps. He resides now in a cell in the highest security prison we have available." Dumbledore finished the last piece of information he was going to give to Harry.

He would now answer his questions honestly, but only if asked.

Harry was reeling from the implication that friends could betray you. He tried to imagine Ron being his friend for years before suddenly betraying him. Or Hermione.

No...neither of them could have it in them...could they?

Harry remembered the picture of Black next to his father on his parents wedding day. He seemed so good in that image. Not evil, but happy to see his friends marry. Had he turned by that point? Had he been forced?

"Sir, do we know why he did what he did?" Harry asked.

"Sirius? Alas, we may never know the real reason.

The week after Voldemort's downfall was a hectic time for all of us. I was away seeing to your future..." and he told a stupefied Harry about 'The Plan' as they put it, how Harry was placed at the Durselys before Dumbledore cycled round back to the question, "That week, many were tried in our courts. The Minister and Director Crouch were merciless in their proceedings. We only found out two years ago when the late Minister was replaced with Fudge exactly how unjustly many were tried. Many trials were as long as thirty seconds, with some carted straight to Azkaban. Sirius Black was one of those people.

We are still trying to go through everyone to get proper trials. Several hundred people were inprisoned in the last month of the war and Sirius was one of the last. I believe we are trying him in a few months. Whilst I would hesitate to invite you, I would give you a personal promise that the truth will out in this case."

Harry nodded in appreciation. Many questions leapt at him, but few were important. He decided to stick with the vital things still hidden from him.

"I realise the truth of what you said before. The truth is a dangerous thing, and therefor must be treated with great caution, but I must know, why were my parents and I targeted by Voldemort himself?"

Albus Dumbledore was, for once, at a loss for words. How to explain what was in and of itself, a meaningless prophecy?

He began by telling Harry about why most dark wizards, even the truly evil ones, never made Horcruxes whilst telling of what happened to those who did.

Harry nodded. Voldemort was clearly insane but would have been looking out for any signs that indicated his fate.

Dumbledore performed a strange leg movement that summoned a huge red and orange bird.

"Fawkes," he indicated by way of introduction, "is a Phoenix I had the pleasure of meeting soon after the downfall of Grindlewald. Eventually, through a quite extraordinary series of events, he became something akin to a familiar. Please take up one of his tail feathers."

Harry cautiously did so, not wishing to cause pain to a bird nearly three quarters his size. A blaze of fire surrounded him and he jerked backwards into what he supposed to be the headmaster's study.

"Please do take care not to knock over these silvery things, Harry. For the life of me, I can't figure out what most of these them do," Dumbledore said, gracefully gliding around to sit at his desk.

"Now then! please observe this image," he said, as a cabinet close to Harry opened to show a bowl lined with runes that seemed to be carved out a marble.

Waving his hand, Dumbledore's mystery bowl emitted a...well Harry thought it looked like a hologram, of both the headmaster and a strange, ugly woman Harry had seen sometimes at the high table.

People referred to her as, among other things, Professor Trelawney.

He listened on to here a strange interview, followed by the woman speaking very strangely. The prophecy, as Harry supposed it was, seemed all to very vague to him. This dark lord could be Voldemort, or it could be someone else. Surely there were many people who had defied Voldemort three times or had babies born in July?

And this power the dark lord know not...well, that could be virtually anything related to the non magical world, or some sort of natural disaster. Overall, Harry thought it seemed more like the ravings of a lunatic than proper advice although, he reminded himself, if _he_ was a dark lord who was constantly looking over his shoulder for a enemy he knew the universe would one day throw at him, this prophecy would certainly pique his interest.

Harry nodded when the image was done.

"It was as you say, Headmaster. Altogether, quite useless unless you were already fearful of something like it," Harry answered the old man's unsaid question, trying to figure out how he himself felt about 'neither can live whilst the other survives'.

Dumbledore nodded, "Whilst I have never considered myself to always being one hundred percent right on any matter, I concur with your view. It is nothing to concern yourself over, just knowledge that Voldemort desperately seeks and will never understand how he himself caused it to happen."

The boy was still deep in thought, so Dumbledore roused him with a chuckle, "Think on, Mr Potter. Rest assured, you are safe for the time being. Go back to your common room and reassure your friends."

Harry nodded dumbly and rose to leave.

"Oh and Harry?"

He turned round questioningly.

"A very Happy New Year to you."

**Author's Note:**

**New readers take note, I actually left this entire chapter out for quite a while AND DIDN't notice. No one knew what Harry knew about the property or what he and Dumbledore talked about.**

**Oops.**

**Anyway, here we are now, and I think all the relative plot holes are plugged, if not fixed.**

**Thanks for reading, please review!**


	19. Chapter 18: Old Hands

**Disclaimer: Once again I must perform the sad but necessary task of informing you that I am not and never will be J K Rowling. My only consolation is that you never will be either. I don't own Harry Potter and I certainly don't own the English language. Well...I think I don't...**

Chapter 18

"Humphrey?" the middle age gentleman said into his telephone, "the word around the big wigs is that the old boys are being brought back in. PM confirmed it just a few minutes ago. Just giving you an advanced warning. They may decide to draft us all back in again."

"Goodness, Charles...they wouldn't do that unless-"

"Precisely, we have a confirmed siting of You-Know-Whatsis Trousers. So we're on a war footing now. They've already got the funding and the chaps ready. The Brass is waiting for some reason, probably the politicians 'ain't done negotiating yet. I think we need you here."

"Dash it all Charles, they promised me after last time that they wouldn't use me once my cover was in place. My family needs me more than my country does."

"Listen mate," the figure slumped in his chair, "they don't want you back in the fire fight, just on an advisory role. Don't say no outright when they come and ask. you know how they handle people like that."

"Christ..."

There was a silence of a few moments as both men thoughts about their long and bloody history.

"Listen, I can't stop. There are another thirty people who need to be warned. I'm sorry old sport" the voice turned to steel, " but the powers that be have spoken."

All across the country, the same grim message was given out throughout the night.

* * *

It was proving to be a horrible day for Cornelius Fudge.

The Muggle Prime Minister was no stranger to war, having served in the exhaustingly disappointing position of Defence Minister for many years. He however, had no inclination in discussions.

The Muggles were going to be in charge of the combined effort or they were going to do it alone. Fudge didn't really have a leg to stand on in this instance. He didn't run the country, wizards were outnumbered by Muggles on a massive scale and their armed forces were going to put down far more targets than his aurors were, just through sheer force alone.

"This Azkaban prison," a man identified as an Admiral in their sea forces said, "we could place the island under observation by a patrol unit, or even a cruiser since we aren't using them at the moment."

"And...what help could these boats give us?" Scrimgeour said.

The collective muggle representation winced as they knew through experience never to doubt or belittle the navy in any way, unless you wanted to receive several incredibly jingoistic lectures about how much they matter.

"Well..." the Admiral began, "we can put the ship or ships as the case my be, fairly far away from the island. Simpler tell the inmates that if any one tries to escape, it will be bombarded by several incredibly powerful guns that will turn the building they are in, along with themselves, into ash."

The nonchalant way in which he described power that few wizards had ever held cowed the head auror back into silence.

"That would be excellent if possible. The goblins are already going to improve security there along with some of their own ... Shall we say, unique way of guarding things," Madam Bones said delicately, unsure of how the the Muggles would react to having several dragons being put in an enclosed space.

"Hmm..." the Prime Minister decided not to ask exactly what the goblins wanted to do. Ever since they called him up out of the blue with a letter delivered to him by an owl of all things, he had decided to let them do whatever they wished.

He had also fired his private accountant.

Dumbledore looked directly at the man sat against the wall who had been watching the proceedings with consternation.

"What say you, Colonel Hardy? Are the old people willing and able to come back, or do we have to start from scratch again?" the old wizard said with concern, knowing more than most that Muggles were not quite as spry as wizards when old age came a-knocking.

The steel grey haired man focused his steady eyes on the questioner.

He liked Dumbledore, the man was like Humphrey in that they each viewed the world far differently than everyone else. If you spoke to either one for five minutes, you would leave enlightened, the question you asked having been answered by yourself after their gentle hints.

Still, the old geezer was a teacher, not a warrior, whatever these fools in the magical world thought. The man clearly wished nothing better but to go back to his study and read, or perhaps teach a few intelligent children what's what, not plan a war he had already fought once.

"Hard to say sir, Humphrey for one was extremely resistant to returning, I imagine a few others are going to be like that too. They have families to take care of now. Children that aren't infants, that need their parents there.

I do think many will leap at the chance to get back into action, but we need some new blood too. The oldest member of the old guard will be fifty two this year. You can't expect us to fight again when the Dark Lord eventually shows up. By my reckoning, it'll take two, maybe three years to drum up the numbers back unto what we are used to. However, it seems that we have quite a bit of time to do it in."

The man spoke quietly and with consideration. The whole room was listening in to what he had to say. Like it or not, the Rakers were key to the whole scheme. Normal armed forces weren't going to do the brunt of the fighting.

"What do you suggest, Charles?" Dumbledore asked.

"Recruit the best of what everyone can offer, like last time. Train them up some more and hopefully they'll be ready by the time Lord SlitFace shows up."

The room lapsed into silence once more.

"I think enough has been said tonight," the Minister of Magic said, getting to his feet.

"Oh, just one more thing Minister," the Prime Minister said, an edge to his voice this time.

"We want something back for doing all this for you."

Cornelius sensed the shit before it hit the fan.

He sighed, "What does your government want?"

The Prime Minister got to his feet.  
"Our government, our world wants one thing from you once this conflict is over. "

"We want you to come out of hiding."


	20. Chapter 19: Life goes on somehow

**Disclaimer: Once again I must perform the sad but necessary task of informing you that I am not and never will be J.K . Rowling. My only consolation is that you never will be either. I don't own Harry Potter and I certainly don't own the English language. Well...I think I don't...**

Chapter 19

It had been nearly a month since the forcible ejection of Lord Voldemort from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unfortunately for one boy in particular, that had been more than enough time for everyone in the school to be informed of that fact.

Harry had in recent weeks been at the end of many stares and points, more so than usual, at least for him.

The current theory/outright rumour going round at the moment was that he alone had followed Quirrell into the depths of Hogwarts, fighting dragons along the way until he smote down the dark wizard Voldemort with the mythical sword of Gryffindor. This story was particularly outlandish and had both Harry and Hermione both giggling when they heard it first mentioned from the Hufflepuff table.

Ron however, was basking in the adoration of the school. Everyone had heard of his chess prowess and just assumed he had outplayed McGonnagal at her own game. He was beginning to tire of all the attention however, not only were the stares and whispers annoying but girls staring at him freaked him out.

He wondered how Harry handled it on a day to day basis.

In fact Harry had noticed a fairly abrupt change on both of his friends. Hermione had become more willing to accept new ideas since Christmas, when she had been beaten multiple times by both Ron and Harry at chess.

Ron on the other hand, had not only become more serious after seeing Lord Voldemort's spirit fly past him but he had also gotten extremely determined to live and breath chess as soon as Harry had finally beaten him once.

Ron had been noticeably quiet for a few days after the vents in the third floor, and they both supposed this was something that had kicked him into shape, giving him the drive and energy that he had lacked before. Fear does that to people. Whatever the case, this new Ron Weasley was beginning to turn up to class as well. His note taking and attention span had both improved in quality and in length. Whilst the spells he found to be still difficult, he was becoming a determined trier.

Hermione and Harry hadn't commented yet, except to congratulate him when he got more points than usual, but they hoped that this spelled a new leaf for their friend.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had been fairly quiet in recent months, fully prepared to sit back and 'reside' in his position as inglorious bastard since he was swiftly pulled from Hogwarts for 'a chat' with his imperious father, who was, in everyone's opinion, more sticky than Argus Filch after mucking out the toilets. Harry had been hopeful that his actions in aiding a fellow broomstick rider had shown Malfoy's true colours.

In truth, the boy seemed to have occasional instances of character before slinking back into the snake pit his father had created for him since birth.

Said father was now pulling the strings once more. Harry had, however slightly, interfered with the workings of Lucius Malfoy. According to the Prophet, all convicted Death Eater, suspected Death Eater, and Death Eater related accounts at Gringotts had been frozen whilst the Ministry did what it assured readers to be a 'customary glance through' to ensure that there were no dark objects in the vaults.

Malfoy Senior was involved with the Death Eaters, technically 'under the influence' whatever that meant, meaning that his vault was shut down hard when the Goblins agreed to the Ministry scheme.

Fortunately for their family, Lucius was not so stupid as to put everything in his vault. A large portion of his wealth was unaffected, hence why Draco was still prancing around, pretending to be intimidating.

Still, the Malfoy's had been inconvenienced. They couldn't touch the Ministry at the moment, their popularity was skyrocketing since their crack down on crime. Dumbledore was laughably untouchable which left the great house of Malfoy only one option.

To bully a few kids.

Malfoy himself was not quite the thinker his dad appeared to be. He had been caught so many times trying to prank Harry and his friends by Filch, McGonnagal, Flitwick, Mrs. Norris, the Weasley twins, Percy, Penelope Clearwater, Snape and Harry himself that his detention catalogue was both varied and awful. Snape was being particularily mean to his godson.

Nothing was more reprehensible to a Slytherin than doing a bad deed...and getting caught.

* * *

This added attention, in addition to the growing success of the Gryffindor Quidditch team made Harry feel like a zoo exhibit, a 'freak', as Aunt...the bitch, was so found of describing him.

He found some respite in the library, the Ravenclaws were so often lost within their own thoughts that they forgot to breath. Hermione had been supportive in this trying time, even when a ridiculous rumour went round that Harry's love for her had overpowered Voldemort.

_'Tcha...I know Love is something Voldemort doesn't know about but I think it being the power he knows not would be a stretch too far.'_ Harry thought as he stalked out of a Herbology lesson in which half the females in attendance were staring at him rather than the Devil's Snare wrapping round their clueless bodies. Madam Pomfret was in for a busy afternoon today.

The deep thoughts of the eleven year old wizard were broken by the arrival of Professor Snape.

"Mr Potter, I carry a message from the Headmaster. He wants to see you in his office after lunch. Oh and by the way, I was rather pleased with your potions mark. Perhaps you might have a brain under all that foolish courage of yours..." The potions master glided away, robes billowing behind him.

"Someone must know how he does that," Harry mused aloud.

He was quite correct though, Harry's marks from his mocks were fairly good. Only Hermione had done better, though Terry Boot, Padma Patil and Daphne Greengrass had all done very well. Draco Malfoy had, somehow, come fifth overall, despite his lack of common sense.

Everyone seemed surprised that only two Ravenclaws were in the top four, but Harry knew mor than anyone that intelligence can be found any where.

* * *

When Harry visited Hagrid on Friday, he learnt of his friend's special little project.

It turned out Hagrid had been having private classes for years with Dumbledore and a few others 'great men'. In fact, were he not banned from practising magic he could have done a good set of exams and a dreaded NEWT in magical creatures. Harry still didn't know how Hagrid had managed to get himself expelled and it seemed to be a forbidden subject amongst them.

His cooking prowess had improved greatly too, with an aim to expand his garden and pumpkin patch to perhaps grow more of his own food and also supply more to the school. Dumbledore had seemed very keen with this idea. He gave Hagrid a raise just for planting an apple tree, though Harry thought he could understand that at least. Pumpkin juice was a very boring flavour to say the least, water and milk were not much better.

Hagrid was in his element and very much toasting to a new year...well into February.

Barring drunken half-giants, Harry had kept up with his bank statements, gotten an idea as to what to get for Ron's twelfth birthday and been studying up on what exactly was coming up in second year.

In the library, he had gotten side tracked by Neville, who was reading seventh year past essays on Herbology. The boy had a green thumb, arm, leg and eye when it came to plants. Recently, he had saved Harry from a nasty cold by diving at him when a gargumptious grangler snorted it's spores at him. Having been bruised by a fairly large boy landing on top of him, the pair had since managed to crack Neville's aversion to Charms.

Flitwick had been very nice when Harry had finally dragged Neville before him. He snorted when the boy admitted that his gran was huffy about the subject, revealing that she was worse than useless at it when she was at school. The student and teacher were from then on a common sight in the library, Neville grateful that he was improving and Flitwick grateful that Longbottom wasn't flinging him around the room with his poor aim.

* * *

Transfiguration was coming to Harry fairly easily now. He found visualising the object he wished for aided his spell attempts, though he had trouble thinking in three dimensions. His tea cup, when finished transfiguring from an oyster, was beautifully patterned on one side whilst on the other...

"Really Harry, it looks like a child has gone over a blank tea cup with a marker pen," Hermione said, stifling giggles.

Harry had learned in the past few months not to get angry with Hermione when it came to class work. She seemed to expect perfection from everyone, including herself first try.

"Ah but Miss Granger, were you quite sure you wanted an ornate china tea cup...that could be used by a mouse perhaps?" Harry shot back with a grin.

Ron laughed at the tiny cup but was impressed by the craftsmanship. His plain cup was almost right...if he could stop making the varnish look like oyster shell.

"That is enough you three," McGonnagal said sternly, "you have all done well for your first try.

Mr Weasley, you must focus on the cup, not the oyster. Make sure the wand movement is a flourish and not a sweep.

Miss Granger, you need to think about the size in relation to something, visualise a hand holding the cup next time.

Mr Potter...you have an excellent eye for detail but you lack focus. Please think about the process for several seconds longer before catching.

Remember, as with all Transfiguration-"

"Cast only when sure," the trio choir used back.

Their teacher gave a rare twitch of a smile before moving on.

"I'm worried about transfiguring glass next year. How _the hell_ are we supposed to visualise that?" Harry said to Hermione.

They both used the visualisation method whilst Ron relied more on the normal spell and wand movements. Both were fairly difficult but then again, this was a hard subject.

"I'm more worried about Potions," Ron said, blushing when the other two rolled their eyes at him.

Ron had turned out to be a fairly good brewer of potions, in glaring opposition to what Harry had thought at the start of the year. His new found patience and careful planning was working wonders when he was preparing potions, even under the eye of Severus Snape. Neville, surprisingly, wasn't half bad at preparation either, even though he still failed in executing the actual methods in brewing the potions they had to make.

Ron was becoming good enough in Potions now to actualy start caring about his marks, which before were almost certainly going to be bad. Now however, he was hoping for an A, or even an E when the exams came. Charms and Transfiguration were coming to him, slowly but surely. He wasn't quite there with his confidence but his pronunciation had come on in leaps and bounds.

Hermione, Harry had come to understand after several hundred hours in the library with her, loved the written word in all of its forms. She had a hard time grasping things that were beyond language, things that relied on instinct or imagination, such as broomstick flying. She learnt well and quickly though, and had taken to the visualisation process in Transfiguration- despite it's trickiness.

* * *

Harry, Hermione thought, would one day eclipse her as a magical wielder. He was without a doubt a powerful practitioner already, surprising both Professor McGonnagal and Professor Flitwick with his spells. She felt a twinge of envy towards her first real friend.

He rarely 'got' a spell first before her, but when he managed it, he performed it perfectly. Study-wise, he retained as much as she did, despite his claims to the contrary. She wondered how her normally logical friend chose to ignore how he could answer with extraordinary detail what he had been doing on a certain day or what a certain book had said to do. Only her father and herself had shown anything like that sort of memory.

He wasn't...quite, the know-it-all she knew herself to be known as, but he was more instinctive and creative in his methods, using simple spells to do a variety of things her more advanced repertoire could. This tended to bite him in the arse when he had to do essays on the more complicated spells that he didn't use very often. He wasn't quite getting the fire spell yet either...

On the whole, he was a good friend, an budding intellectual and was quickly growing not only in stature but also in followers. She had noticed, and shared in, Harry's annoyance over his 'fan base'. Really, some of those...some of those people must be in third year. Hermione looked around from her seat next to the boys. The library seemed very 'full' today. '_This does not bode well'_ she thought.

**Author's Note**

**THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN RE-WRITTEN.**

**This chapter is more of an update as to where everyone is after the explosive events at Christmas. If the secret of Quirrell and the stone is like any school secret at a boarding school, it will been known to everyone within hours. Harry would have a fan base, even without those rumours and stuff, and I always suspected that Ron wouldn't actually like attention when he got it. Very few people do. I will expand on the Muggle/Wizard politics a bit more in the future. For now, let's just say that the Ministry is shitting itself.**

**Thanks for reading and do please review if you have the time. **


	21. Chapter 20: Orders of Magnitude

**Disclaimer: If you are going to plot, find out everything you need to know first, then make a few back up plans. Wars have been lost over this little detail. As usual and as always, I own nothing.**

Chapter 20

"Ah, Barcelona," Albus Dumbledore said as he walked down the side street in a royal blue suit with brass buttons.

Leave it to Horace Slughorn to retire here of all places. With the Goblin headquarters just across the way from the European base for the ICW, the old codger was living close to the beating heart of the wizarding world.

The old man had just got back from announcing the dark lord's discovery in the centre chamber. It had prompted a world wide search that everyone was sure to be fruitless. There was also the problem of the Muggles. Not only had the UK government practically ordered the Ministry to reveal itself, all other ministries were receiving similar demands.

Their attitude was quite clear:

_'Oh you foolish little people. You thought that you were going to be secret forever? Well guess what, morons. The world has moved on and you have to as well. Be grateful we are letting you come back with our support and not just letting the general public figure out you exist by themselves.'_

It wasn't as if the ICW tried to resist. The Canadian ministry, which had conquered the invading US ministry many centuries ago, had raised hell when the president had dared make a demand of them. They were silenced when he smugly slid a packet across the table. In it were the most damning photographs, personal records and information about wizardry. All ministries had received such packages.

Again, the Muggles were sending a message.

'_Your secret is already blown._

_Our technology is too great. You can hide now but in a few years even WE won't be able to keep your secret.'_

The UN was not very sympathetic. The world needed magic back and soon, but the Security Council wasn't afraid to crack the whip to get the wizards to the negotiating table.

Dumbledore knew that they had probably been planning to do this anyway within a few months. They had been polite about it, and given them a few years to prepare but everyone was now working against a clock to make sure that the reveal would go smoothly when it eventually came.

The Rakers had come back in droves, with over half the force voluntarily returning to duty whilst the other half were...digging their heels in, begging to be left alone. They were with him now, trying to figure out exactly how many Horcruxes Voldemort had. Dumbledore hoped for a small amount, but the shivers down his spine told him otherwise.

_'Strange_,' Dumbledore thought,_ 'the flowers are budding and yet it doesn't feel as if Spring is coming.'_

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was in a contemplative move. Her first term at Hogwarts had been fruitful. She had the full support of Slytherin House behind her and had proven herself to be mentally superior to the year group, thank you very much. She had beaten every Ravenclaw and that little weasel, Malfoy. She allowed herself a congratulatory smile. She traded it in for a small frown a few moments later.

Two people had been better.

Daphne didn't trust smart people, particularly not independent people she knew nothing about. She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she thought more about the pair.

Hermione Jean Granger was a Muggle Born student and was, in every way, brilliant and extraordinary. She was most certainly a prodigy in magical theory, although only time would tell as to whether that translated into genius later on. She was insufferably brilliant in every way.

Harry James Potter was even worse. Never mind his marks, he had power as well as intellect, along with fame and...strong rumour had it, wealth. Obviously raised away from both the latter two, going off his discomfort around the fan girls and his ratty home wear.

Hmm...possible, very possible.

If he was raised without the prejudices of most wizards, the houses were just names and colours to him. He had relations with people in all two already, and had most teachers, even the indomitable Snape under his thumb.

Tempting, but disastrous if handled incorrectly.

Draco Malfoy had completely screwed up his...and likely every Slytherin males' chance of getting in with the boy. The pranks, the rudeness to the few close friends, foolish, very foolish. Perhaps he had begged the hat, as the rumours said. Otherwise, the boy would have certainly gone to Hufflepuff for his loyalty and determination. The fact that he was a moron and he blindly followed his dad merely increased her dislike of him.

No, no. If she was going to use...no, ally, the guy was going to be too clever to use...with him, he needed an incentive, a better reason and a plan to involve him with.

Daphne wasn't as foolish as many witches and wizards were. She kept up with Muggle affairs and she knew that their cameras were going to catch them one day. Even if they didn't, relations were going to have to change.

The Potters were proof of that. They were wealthy, not because they hoarded but because they invested in the global economy the wizarding world lacked. They were popular in their time for giving away to the poor, to the needy and for helping spread education further with a few scholarships here and there.

Their son was set to become not just a wealthy heir one day, but also a powerful political animal. It helped that he would almost certainly have his family's good looks, brains and power too. He was already showing signs of all three. And yet he was cold too. He flinched from contact with humans...interestingly enough, he was fine with the white owl, he had many people he knew but perhaps only five friends in the castle and, best of all, he hated the morons who wanted to be his girlfriend, his fanboy or his personal monkey. butler.

She knew Voldemort probably would return. The fact that he had already attacked Gringotts and the school merely confirmed it. There was no room for neutrality this time, as she had a feeling that it was only going to end with him winning or his corpse being burnt.

She already knew that she wasn't going to be one of 'his'. There was no room for growth in a dictatorship and she had never been one for grovelling. To fight him, she needed The-Boy-Who-Lived, even as she knew that most of his legend was just that, made up. He was still someone, still powerful and still intelligent. He needed to be all of these things and more, because she suspected that one day he was going to have to take over from the old man as the leader of the 'right' side.

And he needed help.

Daphne finished her deliberations with a smirk. He was viable for a business deal. She spotted two girls whispering over a child's book about the Boy-Who-Lived.

She rolled her eyes, '_Ergh...Humans.'_

To her mind, it didn't matter what the boy did, as long as the Ice Queen was right there next to him.

* * *

Horace hadn't been particularly helpful before and Albus wasn't in the mood to be gentle. As he tore the door off it's hinges and stunned a shocked old man in the face, he reflected on the ways he could pry the memory out of his mind. First though, he would ask his old friend the old fashioned way. Failing that, he could always paralyse him before injecting truth serum.

Screw due process, the world was going to hell anyway.

"That's our man, sir?" a figure behind Dumbledore said.

"Ah yes, an old colleague of mine. Bradley, get the men to give the house the once over. There's probably nothing here of note but we need to document this. If my friend here doesn't talk, we'll throw all of this at him, along with all the other creepy things he's been doing since he retired," Dumbledore said grimly.

He wasn't in the mood for sweet talk today.

"Ah, hello Horace," he said cheerfully, unsticking two sweets as the other old man squirmed slightly his seat. He was one of the few wizards from the 'old' generation that knew what the guns trained on his lower regions could do to him.

"Merlin's beard Dumbledore, what is the meaning of all this?" Slughorn squeaked.

"You've been very naughty in the past few years, Horace. Remaking into people's homes, living in for a few weeks before moving on again? One would think that you were trying to hide from someone. You have no idea how tedious it was to these gentlemen to track you down. They are rather cross with you, you know," Dumbledore said, almost chuckling in amusement as the Rakers pretended quite convincingly to glare angrily at the fat wizard.

"Alright, you have made your point,' his face was ashen as he spoke, "What do you want of me?"

"A memory and a number. How many Horcruxes do you suspect Tom Riddle made?" Dumbledore said coldly, feeling anger and shame that a Hogwarts professor would EVER give a student this kind of knowledge without asking WHY they wished to know or give ethics on how to use knowledge.

"But..,I don't know what you-" the denial broke off as Dumbledore froze him and forcefully necked him with Veritasium.

It was dangerous to take in this way, having been known to stop hearts before. But the information at stake was important and Slughorn had brought this on himself.

"The number of Horcruxes Tom Riddle was interested in was, how many?"

"Six, with the seventh part of his soul in his body."

There were a few dismayed sighs from the audience watching and Dumbledore rubbed his temples.

"Can you give me the memory of the incident you are referring too?"

"Yes," and Dumbledore helped Slughorn extract the proper memory, not even trying to preserve his privacy now.

"Is this memory unaltered?"

"Yes."

"Very well. You may admitted the antidote."

Horace slumped in his chair as it took affect. He knew he would be going to prison if this ever got out, and as it was, Dumbledore wasn't going to be kind when he saw the memory.

"Albus...please. If you have any lingering favour towards me, please obliviate me of these events and let me live here in peace. I promise you, I bought this house myself. I was going to return here to retire fully when you gave up the chase."

The old man was begging now, pleading. The soldiers looked towards Dumbledore, not knowing exactly how much leeway any of them had to let the man go free.

Dumbledore himself knew that Voldemort was going to kill Slughorn if he found out that he had talked, even under duress. He sighed heavily.

"Horace...we are done today. You will only remember these last words of mine: Stay away from Britain and away from Harry Potter. Goodbye, my old friend. I'm sorry this had to end like this'" Dumbledore said, standing and then oliviating the meeting from the other man's mind.

"We are done here gentlemen. I would ask you all to tell the others that we have a huge task ahead of us. Also..." he considered for a moment.

"Tell them that The Order of the Phoenix is being assembled as we speak. We will seek out these dark objects and send them all, and their creator with them, back into the shadows from whence they came!"

* * *

The man in the black suit smiled at the dossier in front of him.

He glanced down at the files inside for a moment out of habit. He had already decided what to do.

"Mr. Queys, the order is confirmed."

He reached over to a red stamp on his desk. Pausing for a moment, savouring the feeling of control, of purpose that he had missed for many years, he stamped down.

"Target confirmed sir."

The disembodied voice said.

The man in the black suit straightened his black tie. His eyes looked down again.

Everything was going according to plan.

**Author's Note**

**I was surprised to see that five thousand people had read at least one part of the story I am writing. It is a rather large number considering the kick I got a short time ago at seeing a thousand people read it. I can only offer my thanks to everyone who is still here. **

**This chapter is a reminder that no one is going to be able to play nice in the war. The Muggles have to bring the wizards in before the public figures it out themselves, the headmaster needs to know more about the Horcruxes and the forwarding thinking Miss Greengrass is thinking up ways to survive in a world that she knows is going to change abruptly fairly soon.**

** By the way, the Muggles and the wizards are going to be trying to finish this war before it begins by working with the Headmaster and the aurors to find the Horcruxes. They will only fight each other once they don't need each other, if it comes to that. It might seem a bit strong,which is why I'm interested to hear your thoughts on this matter, but I can't see any other way to depict something that will so obviously change everything. **

**Thanks to everyone who has read so far and hello to the new people. **

**Guest reviewer: Whilst no one doubts that Hermione is the smartest witch of her age, Harry is a powerful wizard in every sense, and a smart one too. He teaches RONALD WEASLEY how to do a patronus within a few weeks. I'm ramping up his intelligence slightly but he was always naturally curious and talented, why then should he not read an awful lot, particularly as he now has the opportunity to do so freely? Harry's still not the smartest and he's still a child, as we'll see in later chapters. Thanks for the review.**

**Please, please review, this is still only my first work.**


	22. Chapter 21: Planning Ahead

**Disclaimer: Turns out that the media are biased. Who knew? Regardless, I don't own Harry Potter and have no idea which government is in power in this fictional universe. I don't claim the song either.**

Chapter 21

Cornelius Fudge was screwed and he knew it.

The entire wizarding world was going to be torn up, he thought, either at the hands of Vold...thingy, or by the smug pricks who were now starting to encroach on his turf.

Dumbledore had already thrown his support in with the Muggles, of course he had. His first concern was for the school and he knew which way the tide was coming in. He had already spoken with the reforming Rakers and gotten them to enlist in helping him track down the Horcruxes of ...the bad guy. They had already set out across Europe to find out more.

Cornelius wished him luck with that.

The Wizengamot had been horrified at the thought of their power being taken down a notch but had stifled their complaints when the memory was shown of a muggle ship blowing apart a test shell close to Azkaban. In the silence that followed, one could hear the end of Wizarding independence. The news that the Government was many, many times richer than their own Ministry also helped matters somewhat.

Well, the Muggles hadn't gone that far yet, but in a few years...who knew?

The surprise and sudden retirement of Patroclus Powersnatcht from editor of the Prophet had really spelled the end for any hushing up of these events. If and when the news broke about this deal, the whole country would know soon enough.

Fudge was ready to fight Voldemort but wondered exactly how far the government were going to give them leeway.

Would the Ministry be reformed under Parliament?

He supposed somthing like that had to happen. They were all entitled to a vote, along with the honour of taxes and laws. Fudge cringed, knowing how many human rights violations various ministries had broken through the years. Fortunately his head would not be on the block, but many others would be.

There were murmurs of dissenters amongst their world. Many were starting to come under the absent Dark Lord's banner, as if HE even had the power to fight six billion people and all their weapons.

The Canadian Ministry was looking to repel all borders, with France and Germany both allying quickly with them. The ICW was stricken as it's members formed into three sides, the dissenters, the unificationists and the isolationists. Britain was going to be a target for each one, as any deal they made with the Muggles was going to screw over at least two of the parties.

Some, more in the know, were beginning think optimisticly. Muggles and wizards could advance their world greatly by working together.

On their own, Muggles had reached the moon, seen back into the dawn of time, split the atom and built many wondrous machines that defied magic.

However, they were running out of power, which magic could not only find the means to make more but also aid in other ways. Healing on both sides would greatly increase, with perhaps all diseases becoming extinct. The wizarding world would come under much fairer laws and the other races of beings were already negotiating their own deals with humanity. Global trade would triple overnight.

It would be a great thing one day...the problem was that in the next few years, all who opposed change were going to fight it with force.

The war, if there was one, would be short and bloody...but all sides feared magical terrorism. Human bombs along with magical teleportation would wreck havoc across the land.

Poligiuce potion and appiration, along with the imperious curse, can be defeated by vigilance and a load of wards. The goblins were already at work, fixing the major buildings up with them. Regardless of how the wizards were going to play it, the goblins were fully prepared to reveal themselves to the larger world, with the Centaurs and Mer-People not far behind. They had heard of human conservation efforts and wanted to not only safe guard their homes but help Mother Nature too.

Fudge gulped down more whiskey.

_'Dammit, what am I going to do?'_

* * *

The headmaster's office was fairly easy to find again but Harry was ill prepared for the site that awaited him at the entranceway. Professor McGonagal had taken exception to a Griffin statue that was lolling about in an archway.

"I know I don't have an appointment but I need to go through," she insisted curtly.

"Password," the Griffin said with a mischievous grin.

"Oh for heavens..." The witch mumbled something to the Griffin.

"Hmm...no, sorry. That wasn't quite loud enough."

The teacher tried again, Harry still couldn't quite make it out and he paced a little closer.

"Come on, old girl, LOUDER!"

"GOODBYE YELLOW BRICK ROAD!" McGonagal bellowed.

She looked mortified when she spotted Harry, who was also looking fairly she'll shocked.

"Correct," the statue said with a snigger, before gleefully leaping away.

"Well, come along Mr Potter, if you are here to see the headmaster and not to-"

"Yes Professor," Harry said quickly, marching up the stairs.

* * *

Dumbledore greeted both with far too much of a twinkle in his eye to be coincidental.

McGonagal had never thought she would miss the sweet passwords, but Albus' new found interest in things other than chamber music were being felt by everyone. That reminded her, Flitwick had caught Snape having to sing the last password in a very high voice, she really must ask for that memory.

"It is good you are both here actually. Please do be careful of the suspiciously long pointy thing, Harry, it is an exceptionally good bug zapper but it has the unfortunate tendency of...ah, well, let's not worry about that.

Now...may I interest either of you in a cucumber sandwich? No? Very well," the head master bade both of them to seats.

"Now, was there something you wished to ask me Professor, before I get on with our business?" he asked his deputy, who at this moment looked as if she would quite like the brain the impudent Griffin downstairs.

"I was going to review schedules for the Summer term with you but we can do that later. Do you wish me to stay for your meeting with Mr Potter?" she answered and then asked.

"If Harry is agreeable, I should like your input, yes."

"I'm fine with that sir."

"Very good," Dumbledore said before bringing his fingers together in a rough triangle, a shape Harry recognised as 'Hermione's pondering mode'.

"After reviewing and receiving information and Madam Pompfrey, we have come to the conclusion that Harry's living arrangements are...hmm, shall we say, abysmal. Quite what action we can take against them, I am unsure but I must again offer my unreserved apology for the ten rough years you've endured at Privet Dive, Harry. My mistakes are, I have found, fewer than most but far more disastrous when they do happen." Dumbledore's light seemed to have gone out as he spoke.

"As your only reason to live there, the blood wards that protect you, are now dying, you must come to a decision on what you wish to do over summer," Dumbledore said, sending Harry into a ponderous mood of his own

He was never going back to the Dursleys.

That in itself was momentous, but the problems it caused were huge and unending.

Where in the world was he going to stay?

Who could he find to take in an emotionally damaged child with magical abilities, a fortune buried deep underground and a cult following to boot?

_'Damn, I don't even know if I can live with adults again. I've never really had a good relationship with one, save for the teachers here. Lupin I know nothing about, save for the fact that he was friends with dad, and his werewolf form would certainly cause difficulties. I doubt I could be emancipated at eleven years of age, no matter who the hell I was. _

_Crap...I don't know what to do!' _

Harry's thoughts whirled at the implications and the difficulties.

"Have you got any ideas as to who can take me in? I assume I can't be emancipated yet..." he asked the headmaster, who leaned back in his chair, considering the options.

The Weasley family was no choice at all, at least, not for all summer. Dumbledore supposed that the place was nice enough and Harry was friends with every Weasley in the school however, Molly Weasley was a very...compassionate mother. Whilst Harry certainly needed a parental figure, he wouldn't bond with someone so overbearing, having grown up learning to be independent and competent in looking after himself already.

He didn't know much about the Grangers except that the family was currently employed in the dentistry profession. Their files were sealed because of Humphrey'S involvement in the last conflict. The parents took the magic of their daughter very well, all things considered...and the girl herself was a credit to the school.

Albus wasn't sure whether they would accept Harry over the summer, but it couldn't hurt to ask if they were willing to take him for a week or two. The whole summer however, would be a bit much...they could ask Miss Granger later about what she thought about the whole thing.

Hogwarts was an option, but again, not for the whole summer. The castle was empty over the break except for floods of research teams and, Dumbeldore suspected this year, a whole host of non magical people gathering information for the defence ministry, the education ministry, etcetera, etcetera...

In the end, there weren't a whole lot of options for Harry for a permanent residence, as Dumbledore pointed out each and everyone had problems with that arrangement. Harry supposed he could always 'disappear' for six weeks before miraculously showing up.

_'Might even give me a chance to get everything sorted on my list,'_ he thought. Harry had a list in his head in which he recorded everything he wanted to do over the summer. So far, he had gotten into the hundreds.

"We do have time to think this through Harry, although I must admit myself to be fully flummoxed as to what to do'" the headmaster said after reviewing half a dozen options.

Harry nodded sadly, shame faced by the difficulties he was causing. The story of his life seemed to be the rejection and abandonment of him. Who was he to change it now?

* * *

After he had left, Minerva rounded on the old man, "Albus, we simply must find that boy a home. We can't leave him out in the cold again."

He sighed deeply. Lupin was still missing and his only hope now was that he turned up at the trial in a few weeks. The Minister wasn't going to piss on racial laws NOW if he wanted to keep his position,

"I think Minerva, that barring an act of God or something to that nature, we are in for a few tough months."

"How did your trip go?"

"Not bad, not good. Horace was as charming as ever and we found out Voldemort has a suspected six Horcruxes dotted around Great Britain. Thankfully for us, he never visited other countries long enough for him to put defences round the objects that would be of an acceptable strength to him. Thus, we now he worked within our borders. As to the precise locations, that is going to take every once of skill we have to figure that out," the Headmaster said.

McGonagal was wondering exactly how you were supposed to track down six items hidden by the Dark Lord himself.

"We have quite a task ahead of us," Dumbledore said gravely. "Now, Minerva, let us fix the timetables for the summer term. Cornelius has me worried over international affairs and I need the evening free to think things through with him."

* * *

Harry was walking away from the office feeling altogether fairly dejected and sorry for himself, which was a fairly new experience for him.

Now he knew there was a better life for himself at Hogwarts, anything else didn't really cut it. At that moment, he felt like crushing something and then setting fire to it.

"Harry Potter?"

_'Some rat's gonna die today...'_ He thought as he turned round savagely.

Daphne recoiled slightly as she read the emotions showing through on his face. He had just been put down hard by something and now really wasn't the best time for introductions. However, somehow he extraordinarily wiped all emotion from his face when he noted that he didn't recognise her.

His brow twitched slightly before he said, "Daphne Greengrass?"

She was surprised he even remembered that. The only time he would have seen her name in relation to her race would have been at the sorting feast over six months ago. Her suspicions about his memory seemed to be founded by that greeting.

"Yes that's right Mr Potter. Good afternoon," she said coolly.

His right eye flickered in a wince, which she translated to mean irritation, irritation that she had seen him in an emotionally comprised state.

"I presume by the fact that you have been following me for the last week and a half means that you have some reason to be talking to me now?" Harry replied neutrally, knowing full well that she would kick herself for being spotted so easily.

"What gave me away?"

"When you stated anticipating where I was going to go and you adjusted your study program to end just as mine began, so you could pack away and examine me whilst you did so, without being so obvious as to study at the same time as me.

To be fair to yourself, you must be at least the best Slytherin in your year. You are at least capable of planning ahead. What do you want?"

Harry nearly cracked a smile as the girl's composure dropped when he started explaining.

Long hours of avoiding Dudley had given Harry both a keen eye and a good ear; his 'fan club' had forced him to gain an excellent knowledge of Hogwarts and it's secret ways. The girl was good, but lacked the silent tread and casual eye true perusers needed. Her face had gone through irritation at being caught, respect at his abilities before she cracked a Cheshire Cat smile at him.

"Brilliant, you'll do wonderfully."

"Wonderfully?"

"Yes, you're a rather valuable person you know."

"I'm just another first year student," Harry said innocently.

"Hmm," said the girl, not looking very convinced, "said first year has, so far, become the youngest Seeker in a century, somehow neutered Professor Snape, fought Lord Voldemort and has had two meetings with the headmaster that I know about. So you'll forgive me if I am unconvinced of your normalcy."

She motioned to a classroom Harry hoped she had already checked to be empty.

"Now then, you've clearly demonstrated you intelligence and I assume you stole the end of term assessment marks for the whole year, just as I did, so you know I am no slouch either."

He nodded to indicate it was so. Hermione was never going to tell him her mark and he needed to compare with everyone else. The fastest way of doing that was to break into her office, along with the Weasley twins, and take a look himself.

"Right well, I'm sure you have realised exactly how important you are going to be when you leave Hogwarts. You have fame, wealth and possible even a political seat if you want it."

"Yes, I know..." he started, cooly. Internally he was reeling from the information she gave him in an honest manner.

_'Christ...I didn't think that I was all that wealthy. _

_Well off? Yes._

_Rich man money bags? No._

_ And hell...I seat on the Wizenmagot too? Daman it Do I really want to write even more than I already do, or sit in boring meetings?'_

Harry realised he would have to play along for now.

"Get to your point," he said.

"My point is that you could build up a network in school, to give you a set of allies when you leave. Even if you don't want to be in power, you aren't going to be left alone unless you make friends with those who want to."

"And you have a list of people that are already either well connected or showing signs of promise?"

"Yes."

Harry digested the information for a second. He had no real plans on what to do after Hogwarts, as he wasn't sure whether Voldemort would still be after him...or even if Wizards were still secret by then. He had seen the street cameras all over the place and knew that contact would happen eventually, especially with a war going on.

If Voldemort was coming to get him, he must try and bring destruction down on all of his plans and allies. Like it or not, he was going to have to play politician. That didn't mean he was going to lie down and let the girl walk over him though.

"Alright...what do you want?"

Daphne had made up a list in her head of what she wanted, rated in increasing orders of demand, depending on how he took the offer.

"Well, I'm already well on my way to owning Slytherin, Malfoy just doesn't cut it and Nott isn't popular enough. Within a few years, I should have them all round my finger. You have Gryffindor fully in love with you so I suggest we both decide to split the other two houses between us, we should be able to get in with the Ravens and the 'puffs."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "How did you get first and second years to follow you, and how are you going to convince older years?"

"I have my methods."

_'Damn,'_ Harry thought. _'Be careful around this one'._

"How do you suppose we ingratiate ourselves into two more houses?"

"You have an easy way: Quidditch. Cedric Diggory is one of the more popular and clever boys in Hufflepuff and coincidentally, a little birdie told me he is set to become captain next year. For now, he is the Seeker on their team.

Ravenclaw will be more difficult, but you are already on speaking terms with Penny Clearwater, and you and Hermione Granger are approved of by most of them. I know some people already, and can always join in with your study group to cement us with them."

Harry was in a bit of a quandary. He didn't like manipulating people, as he himself was the product of ten years of thoughtless manipulations. He did like the Ravens though, and was probably going to be friends with most of them anyway. It was the Hufflepuff's who worried him. If you pissed one off, the whole pack would leap on top of you, as even the Weasley twins had discovered.

"Fine...but I think we should just make friends for now. Slytherin is the only house you can get away with toying with at the moment."

"I agree."

"You still haven't answered my question. What do you want?"

Harry was sure it would be money, money and probably power too. This one was clearly clever enough to get it if she wanted it.

"Several things, but for now, I want to be seen with you and study with you."

"Why?"

"It'll give me more sway with the other houses if I'm seen with you and not with Slytherin. My house won't bother us, most of them are to dumb to notice any way."

"And what's the most demanding thing on your list?" Harry asked with a sigh.

Daphne looked astonished for a moment.

"What? You didn't make a list of all your demands on it?"

"No...I did, but how did you know?"

"You really, really shouldn't have written these down," Harry said before producing a crumpled sheet of parchment from his robe.

"Wait...that was in-"

"The Slytherin Quarters? Hardly a fortress is it? No... When we were done going through McGonnagal's stuff, we decided to have a quick peak into your Common Room. Oh by the way, don't sit on the wingback chair in front of the fire..."

Daphne bit back her annoyance and anger at the boy for being so insufferably good at this negotiation thing.

"Well, okay, I know the top one seems a bit steep but..."

"A bit steep? Please explain how you think that THAT is a little steep."

"Listen, my family is going to support this one hundred percent, but we aren't THAT powerful or wealthy. We are up and coming yes, but that's because of my father's business sense and my mother's knowledge of Goblins. I just want in on the Muggle world businesses that your family has invested in."

"Hmm, we'll see what happens with that. As I understand it, those shares and most of the money is in trust until I'm 17."

Harry didn't actually know, as the meeting at Gringotts had merely informed him about his own vault and the fact that more existed waiting for him. His bank statements covered only his vault. He was going to have to bluff again until he found out more...and he was determined to find out more about this mysterious 'wealth' this summer if he could.

"Precisely, which is why it's at the top of the list. My less demanding stuff is at the bottom. I want to support you monetarily if you want it or need it. You'd be surprised how far a good bribe will get you."

"Very well Miss Greengrass. Let's do business," Harry said with a grin.

"Oh, I should think this will be profitable for both of us," the Slytherin said happily.

'No doubt,' she thought, 'we'll either end up killing each other or-'

"Oh just one thing, partner," Harry said, interrupting her thought.

"Don't let any one trick you with this again."

And he dropped the empty piece of apparel to the floor before walking off.

She didn't know how or when, but he was going to pay for that.

**Author's Note**

**To be clear, the Muggles are wanting the wizards to reveal themselves before they are discovered by normal people. They intend to coincide this with the end of the second war, as if it's still ongoing it's going to cause even more panic.**

**Dumbledore is working with the Rakers to find the Horcruxes, the Minister had to try and get everyone to the negotiating table and the students at Hogwarts are starting to become aware of how serious the world is. The man in the black suit...will remain a riddle, it's not too difficult to figure out but go with me on this one.**

** Thanks again and please review.**


	23. Chapter 22: The Great Beyond

**Disclaimer: Astrology is at best unexplained and at worst, nonsense. I am going touch upon aspects of it briefly but please feel free to correct any mistakes I make with that or the Astronomy sides of things. There doesn't seem to be a united theory in the former's matter and in any case, this is all in good fun. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, the Milky Way Galaxy or anything I happen to mention in this chapter.**

Chapter 22

"As we have a full Moon tonight, we shall be going over our notes and our readings of it's important effects on magic and on the world. Adjust your telescopes to focus fully on the Moon and zoom in until it just about fills the entirety of your vision. Then come back to the middle," Professor Sinistra instructed the class.

The Gruffindors and Ravenclaws moved to obey the teacher's instructions.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were adjusting their telescopes to to the great white orb in the sky and chatting quietly as they did so. All three students had, after accepting the unorthodox sleeping schedule, rather taken to Astronomy class. It was incredibly relaxing and peaceful, as the whole castle was silent apart from a few murmurs between the groups at the top of the tower.

The grounds below were spread out before them, enshrouded in a late night mist that billowed up from the Black Lake. Hagrid's house was only identifiable because of the trails of smoke his chimney left, and the cherry red light from his windows beaming through the mist.

Harry looked up at the starry night sky when he was done.

He had never really seen stars before Hogwarts in such numbers or in as many varieties. Away from the synthetic glow of Muggle settlements, the wonders of the universe were revealed in full.

"Now class, who can remember the importances of the Earth's moon, Luna?" The professor asked in a whisper.

The class had found Professor Sinistra to be a lover of whispering and quietness. She was not so unreasonable as to fire hexes at the students when they were loud, like the demon librarian downstairs, but any who raised their voices in her lessons did so at their peril.

"Please Professor, the Moon itself does not affect potions, either whilst brewing or consuming, but when preparing and picking certain ingredients, the phase of the Moon affects the potency of the effect of the ingredient. This is why some plants cannot be grown in a greenhouse but have to be grown outside or in tubs, so that they can receive the full luna rays as they are harvested," Neville said first before Hermione could.

Whilst he was still a liability in the potions lab, he was still far and away the best in Herbology.

"Yes Mr Longbottom, ten points to Gryffindor," Sinistra said, "Whilst almost all potions are unaffected by the Moon in any way, particularly large vats of solutions, or potions that take a long time to brew, are indeed subtly influenced by Luna, though no where near as much as say, Sol, our sun."

The class nodded.

* * *

In terms of celestial mechanics in reference to magic, stars were strong influences on things whilst things that reflected their power were second to them. Other things, such as comets, could have adverse and unforeseen effects on any number of things, whilst the planets themselves only really influenced Divination, and then only minutely. The Sun however, was the only star close enough to them that could exert it's influence. The others were far to far away to even set their magical detectors off.

Wizard astronomy ended at the Solar System, because there was little beyond that which could even slightly matter, save for when entire galaxy's collided, sending streaks of magic all over the cosmos.

Astronomy was taught for the first five years because it affected most of their other subjects, especially the ones they could choose to take in third year.

Many animals were affected by the stars and Moon, Divination had a whole school of thought on how to stop or aid the magical inputs of the stars in relations to prophecies. It was rare when they helped though, as signals from even the Sun were eight minutes out of date, adversely throwing off the balance of an already delicate branch of magic.

The Zodiac were, as the Centaurs were fond of saying, 'Human nonsense'.

Professor Sinistra had shown them all a projection of the night sky with the Zodiac lines drawn in, before showing the class a showing of how the magical energy from the Sun dissipated as it moved towards Earth. By the time it reached the planet, it was not one eight of it's strength. She then showed the the power coming at them from the nearest star in one of the constellations. It's energy was less than a billionth of what the Sun's was when it hit Earth. The instruments they had could go no lower than that and the class was left in no doubt that the effects coming from others stars were minimal at best.

* * *

All this Harry had learnt over the past few months, and yet above all, the subject was almost designed to show how little everyone knew.

No one knew if magic even worked on other planets or if there was life out there. Because of the non magical element of the subject, Muggles and wizards intertwined with each other over it.

The non magical world had excelled at looking further and reaching back, even putting a few people on the Moon at one point. In fact, the ICW called an inquirers to make sure that the Muggles hadn't had magical aid in helping them get into space. The fact that they had done it on their own had sent shock waves round the Wizarding world.

For the first time, the Muggles had done something truly astonishing and fully beyond what any wizard thought possible. In the years since, prejudices had declined sharply, with only hardcore purists (inbred pure bloods) keeping to the old thoughts. Voldemort had only quickened the process that already was happening. Now magical users were starting slowly, very, very slowly, to take further interest in what the Muggles were doing, with each generation increased in knowledge, due to the rising ratio of Muggle borns being born as the human population increased.

Harry always became this hideously optimistic when simply gazing up at the heavens. It was not a sight that bred narrow mindedness or depression, but hope and wonder.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Hermione said, sat to his side.

"I think that doesn't do 'it' justice, but you're right. It's awe-inspiring, terrifying, the stuff from which dreams are made, the endless ocean on which we all sail..." Harry tailed off as Ron started sniggering.

"You really do know how to lay it on thick Potter," he said between his snorts.

"Laugh it up, you soulless prat," Harry said back, still looking into the sky.

He didn't read much poetry, but enjoyed Hermione reading it aloud.

She was at this moment smiling at her two friends, one a wondering stargazer moved to poetry and the other a giggling pragmatic with a perfectly understandable humorist attitude to the former.

_'God, the universe was weird,_' she thought.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, his eyes now widening with pupils expanding.

He nudged her and indicated wordlessly.

She cast around confused for a second before she saw it too.

The Milky Way was streaming out above them, filling perhaps a quarter of the sky.

The teacher was silently beaming a sight she surely must have seen dozens of times and yet never tired of.

Hermione turned back to look once more at her galaxy.

The milky stain was really billions of stars coalesced together by her inferior eyes, combined with the distances involved.

She wasn't complaining just this once however.

Harry nudged her side again and pointed. They were not alone in admiring the sky at night.

A few dozen groups of specks could be seen at the forest's edge. From their shape and dark colour, they could only be the Centaurs, here to observe one of the greatest see able sights from Earth.

_'Magic,'_ she thought.

Both groups remained there for some time, as the world kept on spinning and the stars kept on shining.

* * *

Fudge was nervous just before the conference HE had called.

The entirety of the ICW was out there waiting for Dumbledore, he who had broken the news of Voldemort's discovery to their world, to now implore that world to stay together.

Old rivalries and new threats were threatening to tear the confederation apart when they needed to be united the most. They NEEDED to talk with the Muggles together, or their side was not going to look as strong as the non-magical world's united front in this matter.

He had seen and partly written the speech he and Dumbledore had spent many hours pouring over. Fudge was still afraid that it wouldn't be enough, that these people would forget their innocent populations and start fighting amongst themselves.

"Ah, Dumbledore, are you ready? They're all waiting out there," he said, relieved when the Headmaster finally entered the room.

"Not this time, Cornelius ," Dumbledore said, waiting a few moments before that sunk in with the Minister.

Said Minister was shaking in his seat. If Dumbledore could not do this, who could?

"This is your moment, Minister," the old man said quietly. "Out there are a collection of extremely frightened people, just as you yourself are. They need, and you need, to believe in yourselves that you can do this without a doddering old fool helping you out."

Fudge was protesting against the Headmaster's reasoning before he again.

"Listen, I can't go on forever, and like it or not, whether you all believe otherwise or not, I am just an old teacher that has a few other roles. I am not the 'Leader of the Light' as people say. You have to go out there and make them see reason, but more than that, you have to make them believe that they can solve their problems by working together, and not just by getting one wizard to do everything for them. "

Cornelius stared at him for a second. He was feeling...he didn't know what.

Honoured? Pleased that he was going to be in the limelight?

"But I'm not good enough, not smart enough..." he said to Dumbledore.

"You think that now, but you will surprise yourself over the next few weeks, I think."

Cornelius Fudge was pacing around in a haze before he said, "Do you have my speech?"

"Right here, Minister. Good luck," Dumbledore said.

"Right then..." Fudge said as he started down the passage.

He stopped suddenly and turned around, suddenly feeling so incredibly sorry for the old wizard he was leaving behind.

The old man smiled reassuringly and gestured him on.

Fudge placed his hat more firmly down on his head.

_'I will do this...'_

Dumbledore watched the retreating figure. It was going to be the end of an era, regardless of how well the man did. But Dumbledore knew that it was time for him, if not to leave the ICW and the Wizenmagot, to at least stop carrying the world on his shoulders.

It was time for them to stand together, or fade away.

* * *

Fudge went out that day, for his country, his people and for the man who had pushed him onwards. His speech, when it came, was his finest hour and the strongest of his career.

When the time came, they would all be there together.

With their united strength.


	24. Chapter 23: Trial and Treasure

**Disclaimer: You get the message right?**

Chapter 23

It had been, Harry thought, a most frantic time for everyone.

Apart from the final exam and Quidditch match preparations, Harry had also been trying hard to figure out just how the Wizarding world worked. Their trial process was considerably shorter than the non-magical way, owing to the use of pensives and truth serums being used to ensure that what they heard was the truth... Though there were apparently ways of falsifying memories themselves.

The Law as it stood was tiered, with the most major offences were murder and the usual stuff, but just below that was the statute for secrecy, which was very carefully policed by all ministries. Punishments included fines, community service, prison, Azkaban and something called the Veil, which hadn't been used in two centuries.

The Daily Prophet, which today headlined the Minister's strongest speech to date, calling for unity amongst wizards in the face of adversity, seemed to be the only mainstream newspaper.

_'That, if controlled properly, could be very destructive in the right hands,'_ Harry thought.

* * *

Quidditch was still at the forefront of the school's collective mind, as Slytherin had never been sidelined by another team since the departure of the legendary Charlie Weasley. Harry was under quite a bit of pressure as it was, being Hermione Granger's friend at the start of exam month tended to do that to a person. It was a toss up as to who was more demanding to Harry: her or Captain Wood, who was still driving the team to the core even after their perfect season. It wasn't a case of how many points Gryffindor needed, they just needed to win.

Slytherin wasn't even being contained by Greengrass in their attempts to cripple a few team members before the big game. As such, Fred, George and Peeves had effectively declared war back, and went on a pranking spree that rocked the foundations of the castle.

Everyone on the team was very tense, as few had dared to dream of the gleaming Quidditch cup since the Slytherin team had become so dominant. Harry was beginning to have nightmares again, this time about falling or failing to win. He cared about the sport too much to try and concentrate on something else the few days left before the match.

* * *

Finally the day came and the match was set.

Harry looked around the pitch, bathed in sunshine.

"Damn Oliver, you better win the toss for the goalposts or you're going to have the sun in your eyes for the entire game," he warned the burly Keeper, who marched forward to shake hands with the Hufflepuff captain.

Their team was quite unremarkable, save for a very talented Seeker called Diggory. Harry would have to watch him closely.

The match was fairly lacklustre for the spectators for the first thirty minutes, the Gryffindor side was clearly superior to the opposing chasers. Lee Jordan was even starting to wander a bit in the commentary box, before Diggory dived down fast. Harry panicked for a second whilst shooting after him, he couldn't even see the...wait, there it was. The Snitch was evading the efforts of the boy in front, spinning around and flying upwards again, causing both players to swerve in chase, almost colliding together as they did so.

"Alright there, Harry?" The boy asked him in a calm voice.

Knowing the other Seeker was probably trying to unnerve him, Harry answered as cooly as he could, "Oh, not so bad. I say, the flowers are coming out beautifully aren't they?"

Harry flew forwards as Cedric Diggory blinked when the Sun shone through a cloud.

This Snitch was being difficult today, but Harry would not be denied. He caught the Snitch as it flew through one of the scoring hoops, narrowly avoiding decapitation as he did so.

"YES!" Harry shouted as Wood flew into him in tears, the rest of the team following close behind. Slowly, they descended into the huge crowd of congratulating fans that carried them across to where Dumbledore stood in the stands, holding the huge,gleaming silver cup that had been in the icy lair of Snape for many a year, the cup his own farther had won more than once in his time at Hogwarts.

As he lifted the cup above his head, Harry thought that this day was the happiest of his life.

* * *

"Oh come on, Hermione!" Harry pleaded later on that day, "The party's in full swing and the Histroy revision can wait."

"Harry, the exam is in A WEEK! We have to go over everything again," she said disbelievingly, not quite understanding how a party can last until three in the afternoon without people getting bored.

"Hermione, relax," Ron said from his chair.

He was simultaneously eating, beaming and talking, which he had been doing for some time now.

The boy didn't seem to require oxygen to function.

She still didn't look convinced but Harry catching her stressing arms stopped her short.

"Please enjoy yourself today," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the general rabble in the Common Room, "You are going to do well-"

"But what if I don't? What if I-"

"Hermione, you are the best in our year and...well, probably the best in second year too. You will NOT fail this exam if you do your best. You have nothing to prove to us," Harry said firmly, understanding that her school marks had been all she had had for far too long.

She seemed to calm down a little and even smiled a bit when Ron set the twins on her with the sole purpose to cheer her up.

* * *

Harry meanwhile, had gone in search of Cedric, who had been the best challenges so far in his Quidditch matches. The Hufflepuff rooms were near the kitchen but Harry thought it more than likely he was outside somewhere.

He was in fact, smelling the roses.

"Harry?" the boy said when he found him.

"Hi Cedric. Thanks for the game," Harry said.

"Bit of a tricky snitch wasn't it?" The olde boy said, smiling.

"Yeah, but I've seen worse."

The boy's chattered on about Quidditch games lost and won for a while before they headed back to their respective rooms.

Harry quite liked Cedric, who could have been in Ravenclaw if his marks were anything to go by. The fact that he was in with the badgers spoke volumes about his loyalty to his friends and loved ones.

Harry was quite ready to be his friend.

* * *

The exams came and went, with Hermione stressing quite a bit throughout the three week period, causing a number of headaches for everyone else. She aided everyone though and that endeared her to the rest.

Harry was only concerned about the DADA exam, as they had been on substitute classes for months now as the Headmaster searched for another teacher. Flitwick was superb at the practice side of things and fortunately, Quirrell had done an adequate job of teaching the theory earlier in the year. The higher years, those that did actually REALLY important exams, had a mixture of Flitwick, Snape and a few instructors from the Hit Wizard Squad. They were the apparent special forces/elite units in the Ministry, whilst the Aurors were the investigative police force and crime fighters, and were, in the last war, the Dark wizard hunters.

Their results would be given out on the last day of term, which made Ron in particular, who was thinking of those few weeks of living with the panicking Hermione, groan. Harry had ingeniously gotten her to focus on what they already knew of second year whilst they waited for the marks. All three were cautious of the Transfiguration class next year but were looking forward to learning more powerful spells, and in particular, having a better defense teacher.

* * *

What was supposed to be a fairly enjoyable and relaxing few weeks in the sun at the end of term was shattered by the looming date of Sirius Black's trial, which had the media in a frenzy and Harry worried about attending. He knew he had to go and look at the man, to see justice done and learn of why he did what he did. But that didn't mean he wanted to hear the demented ravings of a madman, a follower of Voldemort, or to hear in detail of how his parents and more than a dozen other people died.

He had some good news though; the Weasleys and the Grangers had both invited him to stay with them for a week or more, which should be enough for Dumbledore to figure out where to put him for the last two weeks before school started again. He could always stay at the Leaky Caldron.

Dumbledore had given both he and his friends leave for the trial, so all three went with him and both Professor McGonnagal and Snape to the Ministry, where the trial would be held. The courtroom was full to the brim, the Minister, Madam Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt being the few people Harry recognised.

The accused was brought in by six guards in heavy chains, along with two horrible looking creatures that suddenly made Harry feels very faint indeed.

Dumbledore suddenly shot up and said, "That will be enough of that. Please escort the Dementors out!"

Harry wondered for a moment before he remembered that Dumbledore would of course be heading the trial as Chief Warlock.

The horrible figures left, wizards escorting them out with white light pouring from their wands.

Harry took a good look at Sirius Black as he was now.

He looked awful. He was starved, weak and silent, his head was covered in his messy, unkept hair. The sight was pitiful and spoke of the horrors of Azkaban to Harry. The man's animal eyes were darting round the room, looking up at Dumbledore for a moment before darting round again.

He found Harry and stared.

_'He doesn't look so insane,'_ Harry's first thought was.

And he didn't, the man was looking at him with sadness,with regret,but not with anger or hatred

Harry wondered what it was all about.

"Silence," Dumbledore boomed.

The courtroom went quiet at once.

"We are here today to try one Sirius Orion Black, who has been thusly accused of:

_Treason against the Ministry,_

_Aiding and abetting the murder of James and Lily Potter,_

_Main charge: The murder in cold blood of Peter Petigrew and thirteen Muggles,_

_Wilful damage of Property that in turn demanded thirty weeks of the Ministry's time to maintains the Statute of Secrecy,_

_Knowingly joining and commanding the terrorist group known as the Death Eaters._

How do you plead?"

"Not Guilty."

The abrupt answer and denial surprised many in the court, as most loyal Death Eaters were proud of their depraved crimes.

"Very well, the trial commences. Do you willingly submit to Veritasium?" Dumbledore asked the man in the chair.

"I do," the man replied and he was quickly given a potion through the mouth that glazed over his eyes.

Harry remembered that the truth serum was powerful but specific. You needed to have precise questions to get precise answers.

"What is your name?"

_"Sirius Orion Black."_

"Are you a Death Eater."

"_No"_

The answer stilled the court for a time. Whilst Black had never taken the mark, he should still consider himself a Death Eater, shouldn't he?

"Have you ever been a supporter of Lord Voldemort?"

"_No."_

Several shouts were heard amongst the observers. This news brought into question the entirety of his crimes, and yet still didn't explain his actions."

"Did James Potter cast the Fidelius Charm on his residence in Godric's Hollow?"

"_Yes."_

"Were you their Secret Keeper?"

"_No."_

At this, Harry and a few other people gasped in surprise. This trial was starting to make less and less sense. A man in rather raggedy robes was crying in his seat across from Harry.

"Do you know who the Secret Keeper was?"

"_Yes_."

"Who was the Secret Keeper?"

"_Peter Pettigrew."_

Another few noises, this time angry ones. Peter Pettigrew was a hero in the last war, confronting Black before falling before him. He had the country's highest honour, for Merlin's sake! If he was implicated in this, it raised many questions as to who else had escaped the justice of the Ministry. A few 'imperioused' members of the jury were squirming slightly in their seats.

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"

"_No."_

"Who killed Peter Petigrew?"

_"To my knowledge, he is still alive."_

Harry was shaking in his seat now, the murderer of his parents and the person who betrayed them were both free!

"Why did you and he meet in that street after the events of Halloween?"

_"I was chasing him down. I knew he must have betrayed their secret to Voldemort and I also knew that he would escape if I didn't catch him. He came up to me in the street, shouted to everyone that I had betrayed James and Lily and then blew up the street. He cut off one of his fingers and then transformed into a rat, his animagus form. I was then captured."_

Harry whirled around to Ron.

"A rat with a missing toe, Ron!" he said to the red head.

"Oh shit! Scabbers!" he yelled.

"Where is he? Is he still in his cage in Gryffindor tower?"

"He was when we left, but remember, we talked about the trial last night..."

Harry went white.

"Excuse me," he said aloud to the court at large.

"I happen to know a rat exactly as this man describes, in the care of my friend here. He is missing a toe and has lived for nearly ten years with the Weasleys."

The court exploded. Not only had Harry Potter defended Sirius Black, he had also told them where the actual criminal was!

"Dumbeldore! Allow us to make a portkey into Hogwarts at once!" Amelia Bones shouted to the white bearded man.

He nodded, and tapped a yoyo he was carrying into a portkey. The Aurors held onto the extended string and disappeared into a blue haze.

"Order! ORDER!" Dumbledore shouted, "the trial will continue."

"On this new evidence, together with the fact that this prisoner," he indicated with his hand to the bare arm of Sirius, "clearly does not have a Dark Mark or any former convictions, I move that he be found innocent of all charges and repaid for his many years in Azkaban."

Dumbledore looked around at the raised hands of the Jury, who were all voting yes.

"Very well, cleared of all charges. Sirius Black, you may walk free from this place with not a stain on your character." The gavel sounded, and many people broke into applause.

Sirius carefully got up from the chair, having already had an antidote to the potion given. Now he shook Dumbledore's hand before making a few unsteady steps towards Harry.

Snape however, got in front of him very quickly.

"Wait Severus..." Black startled before the potions master could speak.

"I just want to say...that I am sorry for screwing with you for all those years. Please blame me and not James for that 'incident' at the Willow, he knew nothing about it until after you had gone.

I know it doesn't excuse my crimes against you...but I have been punished for every wrong thing in my life for nearly eleven years.

Please...please don't judge me poorly now." Black finished his piece and started to move around the other man.

He was stopped again.

"Black, I still don't like you. I was abused every day of my school life because of you and Potter. You made my life hell and I tried to do the same to you. I can't take that back, but I am on my way to forgiving James Potter. I can't do that for you so easily...but I shall try'" the Professor said, not really sounding like the snarky bastard that most students know and hate, but an uncertain man who didn't really know what to say.

Both briefly nodded at each other before parting ways.

"Harry?" Sirius said when he got closer.

"Congratulations on your release, Mr Black," Harry said quietly.

"Hmm, oh that simply won't do. I can't be Mr Black, it sounds far too distinguished for me," the man said with what could have been a smile under all that dirt.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for chasing after Wormtail as I did. I should have stayed with you and did my duty. You see, I'm your-"

"My godfather, yes, I know. What did you call Pettigrew?" Harry said.

Sirius looked darkly at him, "That was the nickname we gave him when we had finished helping him become an animagus. James and I, we did it in our fifth year and it changed us considerably for the better. Wormy though, when we had finished helping the pathetic twit he ran off and joined Voldemort behind our backs. We never knew until it was too late."

"You and dad can change forms like Professor McGonnagal? Isn't that monitored by the Ministry?" Harry asked in wonder.

"Ordinarily yes, it's an insanely tricky thing to do though. I believe only three others have officially actually accomplished it this century. We were unofficial in our school years and when we entered the Ministry as Hit Wizards, they kept our forms off the books to give us an advantage. It was the same with the Aurors. Very few of us could do it, and our enemies certainly weren't expecting it from us. So we kept it secret, and we paid the price. You say you know where Wormtail is?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, we think he might be Ron's- that's my friend Ron Weasley, Ron's rat," Harry explained.

Sirius grinned savagely, "I hope they give him my old cell when they capture him. Word around the prison was that the Dementors are leaving, but I bet they'll make an exception if we ask nicely."

Harry shivered, "So what are those things?"

"Dementors Harry, are some of the foulest things that walk this earth. They live off the emotions of others, absorbing all positive aspects of people until you are nothing but a husk of what you were," an unknown voice said.

Harry turned to see the man who was crying earlier walking up to them with Dumbledore.

"Harry, this is Remus Lupin," Dumbledore said as an introduction, before nodding at all three of them and walking off.

The two men hugged and Lupin apologised profusely for leaving Harry and believing Sirius betrayed them.

"I was a broken man once I found out. I was not only ostracised by society but now also alone, having had all my friends taken from me by Voldemort. I left after the funeral and didn't return to civilisation for a very long time. I heard about the new trial and made my way back here. I'm so sorry, both of you, you deserved better from me," the man said shamefaced, before Sirius clapped him on the back and said he forgave him, for the fourth time.

"What did the Headmaster want with you, Mr Lupin?" Harry asked.

"Please Harry, you can call me Remus...or Moony, I suppose. I'm sure Sirius has filled you in on our little nicknames," Moony said with a smile.

"Right Harry, you can call me Sirius or Padfoot. You'll see my animagus soon enough whilst-"

"Whilst I hope you never have to see mine," Lupin finished Sirius' sentence calmly. "Dumbledore surely told you of my condition, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, let's just say it makes finding a job difficult. However, he is willing to make me a teacher at the school if I submit to every precaution they can think of. I'll also have to bow to whatever the board of governors say in the matter, they have final say in appointments," Remus explained to Harry.

"What are you going to do, Sirius?" Harry asked.

He laughed and said, "Well,for now I have to find a place to live and learn how to operate again. Then I'll figure out what I want to do. More importantly Harry, what do you want to do?" he asked in concern. "Where are you living these days?"

Both men exploded when they learnt of Harry's treatment at the Dursleys.

"Crap. Well, we can defiantly do better than that, can't we Moony?" Sirius asked his old friend.

"I should think so Padfoot. I'm also thinking,"

"That we,"

"Should prank those arseholes into the ground," both men finished off.

Harry shook his head and smiled to himself.

Appear entry, it wasn't only the twins who were in synch.

"Wait, so I can come and live with you?" Harry asked, hoping against hope.

"Ehh...probably. I'd have to be declared fit to go by the Welfare board and then we need to check over the Potter will, since neither of us have read it. Hopefully, yes, we can live together."

"Gee Sirius, you are a bountiful supplier of optimism," Moony said dryly.

"I'm sorry, I did just come all the way from prison."

"Excuses, excuses."

"Guys please," Harry said, bringing the two back from their bickering, "When can we go and check all of this out?"

"We can go to Gringotts and read the will now," Moony said, glancing at his watch, "But we need Dumbledore's permission for you to go walk about for the next few hours."

"Ah, hello again gentlemen. I must apologise again for not coming to your aid sooner Sirius," Dumbledore said, walking over from a bemused but happy looking Fudge.

"Ah, Harry, I am giving you permission to go to the toilets before we return to Hogwarts. Alas, the Ministry is a large place and I am afraid you will need some time to find them. So I'll give you the rest of the day to figure it out, and hope you don't go walk about," Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling.

Sirius and Moony rolled their eyes at each other behind him.

"Never changes, does he?"

"Not at all, Mr Padfoot."

Harry looked quickly at his friends.

"Go on Harry," Hermione said, pulling Ron away with Dumbledore which, she reflected, she seemed to be doing rather too much of recently.

"See you later," he called after them.

* * *

The trio found their way to Gringotts after Harry was once again acquainted with the horrible feeling of appiration. They marched across the marble floor to the head teller's desk.

"Hello there," Harry's godfather...his godfather, said.

The goblin peered up from his work and displayed the first emotion Harry had truly seen on a goblin, dull surprise.

"Oh good, you're out of prison," the goblin said with little enthusiasm. Apparently, Sirius had a reputation amongst the goblins as well.

"Never mind that, may we see the will of James and Lily Potter," Moony asked politely.

The teller peered at Harry for a second before pressing one of many buttons on his desk, "Barchoke, Rastaban, Griphook, you have a client request."

A few minutes later, two confused looking goblins in suits and one neutral faced goblin came out of a side door. Their confusion cleared when they spied Harry Potter amongst the visitors.

"Ah, Mr Potter," cried one of the unknown ones, "Griphook told me you had come through this past September. I am sorry we missed you but I was on holiday and Rastaban only works three days a week now. He's retiring next year. Griphook shall be his replacement. We are your family account managers, though we also attend to most of the other high security vaults as well.

Please step this way sir, and your guests? My, my! Remus Lupin! How are you sir? And Mr Black...please try not to set anything on fire, will you? Come with me."

The goblin went through the explicit action at high speed before racing off, with the humans looking bemusedly at his retreating back.

He turned around suddenly, "Come on, come on! We have many things to do today!"

"Ergh...Goblins, Harry," Sirius explained to the boy, "Are workaholics. That chap probably hasn't had more than two hours of paper work every day for ten years. Expect him to be very, very eager to do everything."

They followed after the goblin, with Griphook actually showing them the way whilst Rastaban was merely too slow to move at the pace his colleague was.

The will itself was fairly uncomplicated. Almost everything the Potters had left was left to Harry to be inherited on his 17th birthday. Remus Lupin was given two thousand galleons by James Potter and another two from Lily. Sirius was given access to Harry's personal tuition vault, the one Harry had used at the start of the school year and the right to look after Harry until he turned 17. He was also left some money to look after Harry, at the time the will was written apparently, Sirius had been left penniless by his own family.

"Don't worry about that Harry," he said when Harry began to offer him finical aid he couldn't give, "My family took me back when I was thrown in Azkaban. Apparently they thought I'd finally found the 'light' as it were. Barchoke, are you in charge of what's left of the Black fortune too?"

"Yes sir, and the fortune is mostly intact. 500,000 galleons in liquid assets and many unique items in the treasure vault plus the family house property," the goblin ran off the numbers before routing through his drawers for something for Harry's godfather to sign.

"Ah, thank you Rastaban. Sign here please Mr Black. We can handle everything else."

Padfoot signed and clamped his inheritance.

"Now Mr Potter, you were left what was left of the Potter fortune. They spent quite a lot of it in the war and before, helping the Ministry and St Mugos Hospital. Their large network of company business stocks however, remains intact and ready for you when you turn 17.

Now gold wise...ah yes, 847,000 galleons in the family vault, with 13,000 in the private vault of your parents. Here, there is also a treasure vault that is particularly full. Ah...the houses," the Goblin's face fell slightly. "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but the Manor was destroyed in the attack that killed your grandparents. The cottage at Godric's Hollow would need major rebuilding work, probably demolition first in order to be liveable again. There is a townhouse in Windsor that is unharmed, plus the land the Manor stood on still belongs to you. That's a great stretch of land by the way, quite close to the Goblin settlement outside of Tara. You could build again in that area if you so desired. However, for now, you may keep this key," he said, handing over the tuition vault key back, "And that is it."

"Thank you all for your help," Harry said as he rose to leave.

"Oh," he suddenly thought and turned back to the goblin at the desk. "Griphook said I wasn't allowed in the family vault until I was 17 anyway...something to do with an incident involving my father?" he queried. Barchoke gave a sharp look to Sirius before answering him, "Yes...there was a...misunderstanding between James Potter, this esteemed gentleman, three goblins and a um...Swedish Short Snout dragon. The resulting crater was deducted from the family vault at their own insistence, and James was given a...what do you humans call it?...an arse kicking from his mother."

"Ah...thanks again," said Harry, trying to contain his grin. He would have to ask Sirius about that later.

Sirius...

He was going to live with Sirius!

He wasn't going to live at the Dursleys!

"That was a good days work I think, young Master Potter," Sirius said teasingly.

Harry groaned, he agreed with his godfather, he was no where near posh enough to be called that.

"Well Harry, I suppose I'll look into fixing up my place in London, as I'm fairly sure the am pianistic nicked my flat when they put me in prison. We'll see you again at King's Cross, alright?" said his Godfather, neither of them really wishing to leave the other now they knew each other.

"Right," Harry said with a heavy nod.

They shook hands, not quite ready for a hug yet.

"Harry, I'll see you there too," Moony said.

They shook hands also, before Harry walked into a fireplace and, feeling a bit silly, shouted, "Hogwarts!" Before disappearing from sight behind emerald green flames.

* * *

The two men walked out of Diagon Alley and went to the horrible house that Sirius had escaped from.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Sirius said.

"Very interesting wards around here," Lupin said in response.

"True...Harry should be very safe here."

They went inside and coughed at all the dirt.

"What a horrible mess," Sirius said, looking around.

"Filthy vermin, coming into my mistresses house!"

The two spun around and pointed their wands at a disgusting creature that was swearing loudly at them, which in turn caused a hideously portrait to start screaming.

"Well, that's just great'" both men said.

* * *

Harry was, for the first time that year, looking forward to summer. Ron and Hermione had both said their offers still stood if he wanted to visit, and he said that he most certainly would.

_'I wonder if we have a magical library in that house,'_ Harry wondered as he once again contemplated the list in his head.

_N.O. 1: Find a place to live...check._

_N.O. 2: Find out more about my finances...I'm filthy rich now...check._

_N.O. 3: Read, read, read...um...ongoing._

_N.O. 4: 'Adjust' my glasses...uncompleted._

And so the list went. He was actually doing pretty well now he stood back and looked at himself. He had a house, if not yet a home, some money and finical security for the future, two new friends that knew his parents personally and now he was being invited to friend's houses.

Honestly, if he wasn't carefully he might become normal.

**Author's note:**

**Yes, I'm done with the slow chapters now. I am still inexperienced and wanted to lay down some plot details, however, I let the Hogwarts plot flail around whilst I did so. Back on track now.**

** I'm going off the assumption that no one in the Wizarding world has much more than a million galleons, as, going off the relative price's for things in the books, anything more would literally break the economy. I'll go off the assumption that prices and money is still where it was at the turn of the century, where one million pounds made you dirty, dirty rich. **

**Incidentally, the speech Fudge did has calmed down the Wizarding world for now, so we can have a summer without the house exploding.**

**Thanks for reading and do please review if you'd like.**


	25. Chapter 24: Summer Begins

**Disclaimer: If you have just joined this little story, welcome! I'm not J K Rowling by the way and there's a seven billion to one chance that you are not either. So let's all relax and enjoy ourselves, shall we?**

Chapter 24

Sirius Black was whistling in his family home.

That, he was pretty sure, had never been allowed before.

It had been a most superb day. He got out of his cell, out of Azkaban, was proved innocent, met and made friends with his long lost godson and found out his mother was dead.

It was that last one that had him nearly jigging around on the hideous shag pile carpet his father had refused to get rid of.

"It's traditional," he said, well, that pretty much accounted for the whole families attitude to everything. If it was old and crap, keep it. If it was new and better, burn it.

_'Little brother learnt that lesson too well,'_ he thought bitterly, as he considered the crumpled figure in front of him.

Kreacher had keeled over in shock when he found out that he was back in town.

The news that he had a new master had damn near killed him.

_'Ah...better luck next time, I suppose,'_ Black thought as he halfheartedly revised the decrepit old elf.

The whole world seemed a bit topsy-turvy to him.

The new Minister was competent, Dumbledore was telling him the truth, Lupin was smiling for once, Snape had actually listened to him...

_'Hmm, maybe I did go mad in there,'_ he considered to himself. The fact that he was dancing in his hated parents house as he celebrated their deaths was not telling him anything otherwise.

"Kreacher...hello you old devil. Look who's come to see you," Sirius said when the elf came round.

"Kreacher must be dreaming...the rotten scum is in prison."

"Now now, Kreacher, that's no way to speak about your new master is it?" Sirius said gleefully.

"Kreacher was mistaken. Clearly Kreacher is dead and in hell."

"Oh, you wound me so, you horrible creature. Now, get up and make yourself presentable. We need to make this house liveable again," Sirius said, not really trying to hide his disgust at the old servant.

He didn't have to like it, but he needed the house disinfected of all it's muck before Harry got here, and the was no way he was doing that by himself.

"Master never took any interest in the workings of the house before...he was always busy trying to tear it apart, the ungrateful little-"

"Kreacher! Please refrain from using that language when the kid gets here!"

"Master is bringing Kreacher a nice Pure-Blood heir to the House of Black?" Kreacher said, looking up for the first time.

"Half-Blood, not that it matters. He'll be a great wizard some day," Sirius said proudly.

"Half-Blood...mmmm, it's better than nothing, Kreacher supposes," the old elf mumbled quietly, "Master is so sure he will be a great wizard, look at the example he has to show him..."

Sirius straightened up from where he had been kneeling in front of the elf, shaking his head in mirth. Really, Kreacher was so addled in his old age, it rather took all of the spite out of both their comments, and just made them amusing.

"Yes...now scoot along, old one. Let's get the house ready for Harry."

* * *

The trunks were packed, the owls were locked safely in cages and Ron looked forlornly at the square foot of un-dusty side cabinet where Scabbers' cage had been.

The Aurors had arrived too late to stop Pettigrew escape from the cage, escape from the tower and escape down the eastern entrance. Unfortunately for him, he escaped into the Owlry, which nearly ended him there and then. He was quite relieved when the wizards came to arrest him. He was stuck in his rat form in a tiny hole he had found, trying to keep away from the vying birds desperate to eat the overly fat rodent.

They had kept him in the rat form because...well, because it amused them. His cage was now quite literally his cage, enchanted to not break even if he transformed back into a man.

Ron was feeling understandably down about the whole thing and Harry wasn't quite sure how he was going to cheer him up with just one train ride ahead of them. He supposed a grateful Sirius might gift him a new rat, or perhaps even give him a useful pet, like an owl. Their last breakfast had seen a new sight even the whole school year had passed: Ronald Weasley with no appetite. Hermione had stifled whatever amusement she felt at the situation in order to comfort her friend.

The twins on the other hand, had already been ribbing Ron about 'cuddling' and 'sleeping' with Scabbers. Harry wished they were joking, but he had caught Ron doing just that on more than one occasion. He winced at the implications.

Professor McGonnagal gave them the gift of their marks, finally making Hermione relax, which was something that hadn't happened since the Easter break. He had done well again, with E's in everything except History (A) and Transfiguration (O). Hermione had gotten all O's, on account of her being an extra special, super-duper genius.

Surprisingly, Malfoy was in the top ten of students, which left many people once again wondering how he could be clever in the classroom only to be so foolish outside of it. Ron had done well in Charms and Defence (E's), and had even brought up his and Neville's potion grades up somewhat, just missing out on an exceeds expectation, though in Neville's case, Harry was sure he had already gone past what Snape thought him capable of.

* * *

Hagrid walked them down to the main gates, and along the way, Harry reflected on his eventful first year. He had been freed from the Dursleys, made lots of friends, discovered things about his past and future, discovered who he really was, met his parents' true friends and was swiftly becoming proficient in magic.

He owed quite a bit of his success in class to Hermione, who had really pushed him to study the theoretical side of things,whilst he himself always preferred the practical. Ron had kept him sane when she was fretting about something, and had also defended him from Malfoy on one memorable occasion, punching the lights out of him when he challenged Harry to a duel. He was caught by the teachers, fortunately before Crabbe and Goyle had a chance to smash his face in. Harry could only imagine that in every bit of silver he had to polish with Filch to make up for the misdeed, he could see the image of Malfoy's nose crunching.

* * *

The train was sitting ready at Hogsmeade station, ready to take them back to King's Cross. Neville had somehow managed to lose Trevor again, which made Ron feel a bit sad about Scabbers.

"Cheer up mate, your exact words about him on the train last time were-"

"Pathetic, isn't he..." Ron said with a small smile.

"You ever thought about getting a pet, Hermione?" he asked as they loaded their stuff onto the over head rack.

"Hmm...Oh sorry, what was that? Um , I don't know. I suppose an owl could be useful but Hedwig is happy to take my letters to Mum and Dad. I'm going to have to-"

"Read up on it?" both boys said at once.

"Here Fred,"

"Well, well,"

"Looks like you all are,"

"Developing your own twins speak."

The two tall boys were passing through the corridor when they peeked in.

"What's that there guys?" Harry asked, pointing at a largish box George was carrying. He knew it was George because his shoelaces were more messy.

_'Christ...a whole year with them, trying to find their differences and this is as far as I got?'_ Harry thought to himself.

"Ah well, young Harry,"

"This here is a little greeting present to our sister."

"Thanks in no small part to you,"

"We can actually deliver this as promised."

"I just hope, brother of mine,"

"That the joke's still funny Fred? When has a joke of ours,"

"Ever gotten out of date...yes, I see your point."

"Wait, wait," Harry said grinning, "Is that an actual...?"

"Yep," both twins said at once.

"And you'll be pleased to know Harry,"

"That this is from Snape's private quarters."

Hermione and Ron were open mouthed as Fred revealed a toilet seat from the box with a flourish.

Carved into it was, _'Saved- From the Arse of Severus Snape.'_

"I hope you cleaned it..." Harry said, before touching it.

"But of course Harry,"

"The bathroom however,"

"Is most unclean indeed."

The train ride seemed to be shorter this time, Ron was speculating that they deliberately slow the train down so they only reach Hogwarts at night, so it's more 'wizardy' when the first years see it. Neville had found his toad and was happily talking Quidditch with Ron whilst Hermione read, for no decker able reason Harry could see, Hogwarts: A History...again.

* * *

They said they would be there, but Harry never fully believed it until he saw Moony and Sirius waiting for him at the station. It was a strange feeling, only a few months ago, Remus Lupin was just a name he had heard in relation to his parents, whilst Sirius was...well, the cause of their deaths. And now he was going to live with them...well, hopefully.

"Harry, we got permission this morning!" Sirius yelled excitedly.

"What? Moony as well?" Harry said in shock, having heard nothing but hate against werewolves in general whilst at the Ministry.

"Yes! I think someone higher up likes you because he was approved...almost instantly."

"Why the pause?" Harry asked with trepidation.

The group started to walk outside.

"Someone at the Ministry has had an _unfortunate_ and _horrible_ accident," Moony said with an evil grin.

"Yes, the good madam undersecretary of Cornelius Fudge was storming through the department, trying to stop the licence going through. She has a pet hate with things non-human..." Sirius stopped as Harry gave an angry snort.

"Yes, yes, I know she's detestable for that. For some unknown reason, she tripped down three flights of steps and out of the office window, three hundred feet above the main Atrium. Fortunately for her, the fall was broken by half a ton of Dragon dung, which was being investigated at the time for being extremely flammable AND corrosive. I believe she is in intensive care in St Mungo's now...such a shame that."

Harry frowned at the exceptionally dangerous series of events. Had the woman really deserved all that?

"And you had no knowledge of any of this?" Harry said, cautiously.

"I assure you Harry, that we had no knowledge...about the Dragon Dung," Sirius said with a completely straight face, so Harry was unable to tell whether he was joking or not.

"Curiously enough, the Goblins have declared this day to be a Bank Holiday...and the Ministry interior staff were having a rather raucous party when we left. I can only presume that the woman will be missed," Moony said, nodding along.

"Did...did you fix up the house alright?" Harry said, afraid now that things were going to go horribly wrong. After all, didn't they always?

"Yes, it's perfectly good to go. We only blew up a few walls," Sirius said excitedly, which Harry took to mean he really wasn't joking this time.

"Why did you take down some walls?"

"Portraits of my family with permanent sticking charms on them. Only way to get them off, I'm afraid. Although, behind one of the walls, we found a pretty good liqueur rack. I ever knew my father was so hardcore," Sirius said, with a grin.

Harry shook his head in disbelief, "Were they really that bad?"

"Worse Harry. If I could get a Hipporgriff in their room to crap on their stuff, I would. They threw me out when I was sixteen, did you know that?

Your dad took me in and we went from friends to brothers. It's a funny thing, love and hate, but I think I got a better deal than my parents did that time. I suppose now, we can be a proper family," he said reflecting inward for a few minutes.

Harry nodded, trying not to cry either.

"Well then," Sirius said, looking up at Moony after a while, "Enough of all the heavy stuff. Let's blow this joint," he said, pointing his wand, _'A new one?'_ Harry wondered, at a massive motorbike that sprang into life with a roar.

"Hagrid sent this back a few days after I got off. Terrific bloke that, very loyal to those who show him kindness. Anyway Harry, you might want to say goodbye to your friends for now," he said, motioning back towards Harry whilst checking over the bike.

"See you, Harry," Ron said. "If you ever need springing from these two, just owl me."

"Alright Ron," Harry said smiling.

The two shook hands and he rejoined his rather large family next to a rather small blue car. Harry shook his head, in this case it was probably better to just say think '_magic_' and be done with it.

He was hit with a brown, bushy haired blur that took the wind out of him.

"I'll see you soon Harry, okay," Hermione was saying into his shoulder whilst Harry's face went from surprised to purple.

"Can't...breathe here," he wheezed out, causing her to jump backward with an apologetic look.

"Sorry about that," she said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. I'll send you an owl when I get settled in. Something tells me we are gong to need all the help we can get this summer," Harry said, rubbing his side.

"Of course Harry. I'll see you soon okay? Be safe," Hermione said before she scampered off to her bemused but rather pleased looking parents. They all waved to him before they got into their car: a wonderfully beautiful Jaguar with dark green body work.

_'Righto, Harry old boy, time to move in,'_ he thought to himself as he accepted a helmet from his godfather.

"Don't worry about Moony, he's gone on ahead to make sure Kreacher doesn't do anything unspeakable for the next fifteen minutes. I thought, however, that you might enjoy the bike more than apparation."

"You thought right," Harry mumbled quietly, making Sirius laugh.

"So young Harry, what's the happiest day of your life so far?" he said as they both sped away down the road and into a new life together.

* * *

"So that was Harry Potter," Arthur Weasley said to his three youngest sons.

"Yes Dad," they intoned for the third time.

Ginny was bouncing in her seat, looking forward not just to Hogwarts next term, but also meeting Harry Potter in a few weeks!

Ron looked at his two brothers, who looked back despairingly. Six weeks of this?

This was going to be a long summer break.

* * *

"Was that the mysterious Harry we've been hearing about?" Alex Granger asked her daughter with a smile.

"Yes Mum," Hermione said with a smile, "He's my best friend."

"Hmm, oh excellent teeth there, little one," Bartholomew Granger said, absentmindedly looking through the wing mirror.

"Thanks Dad, you know they have ways of fixing almost all dental problems over there," his daughter said, with a tiny plead in her voice.

"Hmm, I'm not sure how I feel about strange magics being cast directly into my oral cavity..." her father said, "But then again, I would have hoped that they would know how to simply speed up the process a simple brace does. Yes...if you can get an appointment with whoever it is you wish to do your teeth for you...Hmm, I imagine there is such a place in that magical alleyway, through that magical entrance hidden by that magical pub."

Hermione listened patiently, knowing full well it was never wise to interrupt her father's pondering on any matter. It did seem though, that she was going to get those teeth shrunk up.

"Both hands on the wheel, dear," he suddenly said to Alex, who was about to turn around to enter the argument.

"I still want you to continue your brace, Hermione," she said, not just as her mum, but as her dentist.

She was very protective of her little girl and was not quite so interested as afraid by the magical world her daughter had entered, far more so than her husband.

"Alexandra," Bart started, causing a pout to appear on his loving wife's face, she didn't really like her full name, "It is a mostly aesthetic choice and only barely will affect her overall health. This is no different than going to a private place and fixing it there, it's just quick, painless and probably free. Ah yes," he said as his wife raised an eyebrow, "I would imagine that in a society such as their's, all healthcare is reasonably easy to do, with only the most extreme of accidents and attacks causing long stays in hospital. I would imagine everything is free of charge for the patient and it's taken directly from tax money."

"I think it's something along those lines Dad," Hermione said, though in truth she knew nothing of the sort and was just trying to force this thorough.

Her mum gracefully withdrew, saying that this didn't let her off the hook for dental check ups. In truth, she wanted her daughter happy, as did most parents. Her daughter's smile might be a bit neater with magic, but that could never make it more beautiful to her.

* * *

Harry and Sirius had pulled up onto the curb and watched as the house revealed itself. Neither one of them was watching the bushes nearest to them, if they had done so, they would have seen a curious sight.

Two tennis ball sized green eyes were watching the small boy on the back of the bike, before suddenly disappearing as if they were never there to begin with. Dobby had all summer to ensure that Harry Potter did not go back to Hogwarts!

**Author's Note:**

**I have to ask, does anyone know how much leeway Dobby has in canon? **

**How far can he go against direct orders...can he at all without dying or mutilating himself. does Malfoy explicitly order him not to say a word? **

**I can always write what I think, but I'm curious as to see what the school of thought is on House Elf freedom of speech. Is Kreacher a good character, a bad character, insane, lonely, old?**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, keep reviewing.**


	26. Chapter 25: The Plot thickens

**Disclaimer: When hundreds of lives are at stake, morality starts to break down a little. I am not J K Rowling, since I'm under very little pressure to write, and she's under loads. Slight hints of interrogation of a...painful nature in this chapter. YOU HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED.**

Chapter 25

The holidays had started with a degree of relative peace and calm for Harry and Sirius. They had just spent the better part of the day in group therapy, as both were forced into it by the well meaning, caring, despicable bunch of bastards that hadn't checked up on Harry for ten years and left Sirius in prison for nearly the same amount of time.

They were, grudgingly, starting to appreciate the sessions led by an exceptionally talented Muggle, which made Harry and Sirius both snort inwardly at how far the Ministry was willing to move earth and heaven for the two of them at the moment. The fact that they were both loaded probably helped too.

The old house that greeted them was hardly comfortable or _homey_ yet, but the smell of rot had disappeared after Kreacher got to work. The little old elf was a bit cantankerous and it was clear to Harry that Sirius and he were...well, a little estranged.

He supposed it was because the elf was filthy, constantly swearing, hideously racist and a direct link to Sirius' troubled past, but when he caught the man hitting the tiny creature he realised exactly what the nature of their relationship was.

He wasn't quite sure how it was with the rest of the House Elf's in wizarding employment, but Kreacher was very clearly a slave to his godfather's whims. He had approached both with his misgivings about the whole thing.

* * *

"Sirius? Why does he have to obey you?"

"Oh...it's written into the binding contract that he was written into on purchase. We buy the elf, then bond with them so they obey the family. It's fairly common in most old or wealthy families...though a few take things a little too far," Sirius said absentmindedly, poking around in a bookshelf.

"I don't understand."

"Hmm," Siruis considered for a minute, getting off the ladder and turning around.  
"You know Hagrid, right?" he said.

"Yes."

"He lost his family shortly after arriving at Hogwarts. The staff and students became his family and when he was expelled...for reasons I will not go into," he said raising his voice sharply when Harry looked as if he was about to say something, "He was offered and accepted a job there. Now, he loves his work and does what everyone asks him of, not just because it's his job, but that's what he loves doing. He doesn't want much, just happiness, honest work and a home.

Now House Elf's are slightly different, in that their free will can be overridden by their masters, they are slaves in the technical sense: they work for free and basically belong to someone else.

However, they love, and I really do mean that, they love to work and be useful, much like the Goblins do. They want to belong to a wizarding family not just because it strengthens their own magic but because it gives them a sense of belonging. They don't want payment because, in their minds, they are really helping their families out. It's a very strange set of circumstances, but most Elf's would rather die than lose their families."

Sirius spoke all of this in a soft voice whilst looking at Harry, who understood that he, his godfather, must have had problems with dealing with this way of life himself and was also thinking of what his godson had been through, how he had been seized with inconsolable rage when he heard of the conditions within the Durselys household. Harry was scared he was going to rush off to murder them like he had attempted, rather incompetently, to do with Pettigrew.

Harry objected to slavery because, apart from the various unacceptable morality issues, he himself had worked for nearly seven years without pay and the meanest bits of food for the Durselys.

"I just don't want you to treat him badly. He might deserve some of it, but remember, he is going to hate you because, as I understand it, you rejected your family and they rejected you, and also you both have been fighting for decades. You own him, and you have to take responsibility now," Harry said in an equally soft voice.

Sirius looked in thought for a moment before going back to sorting shelves.

* * *

Harry made time to speak with Kreacher also, since he himself knew of the drudgery of going about a signed tasks and only ever hearing orders.

The old elf was _extremely_ resistant but Harry could scrape a few sentences out of him every now and then that held some meaning other than the stuff his family had programmed into him from birth. He still loved them, still, even after all their deaths many years ago. Sirius apparently had a little brother who, judging by the fact that he stayed around after Sirius left, meant that he was a Voldemort supporter, at least in theory. He wasn't sure whether he was a Death Eater, and he REALLY didn't want to ask Sirius about it.

"What did you like about Regulus?" he asked Kreacher, when they were both in a room filled with a family tree tapestry.

Kreacher had brought him here because he had asked about the Black family, after hearing it come up today with Sirius when asked about his childhood.

"Our whole lineage, from millennia to millennia," he said proudly, presenting the names of the whole Black family.

He was now smiling slightly, pondering in a dark corner at the question.

"Master Regulus...he was the most kindest person Kreacher ha ever served. He was never mean like," he flickered towards the door," the _other_ one...Kreacher was proud to be his elf and look after his secrets-"

At that, he clamped his hands to his mouth and catapulted his face into the wall.

"Bad Kreacher! Kreacher shouldn't be speaking of-"

"The secret?" Harry said in panic, trying to pull him away from the wall.

It was quite difficult, the elf was only a third or Harry's size but still was fairly heavy. A year of good food and Quidditch had strengthen the boy somewhat but there was no erasing ten years of neglect in one. That incidentally, was something Sirius had already raised concerns about- though, Harry mused as Kreacher was still screaming and attempting to throttle himself, if he saw him at the start of the year his concerns would have been higher.

"Kreacher, please!" Harry shouted, causing Sirius to burst into the room with wand raised.

"Kreacher, stop!" Sirius ordered.

The old elf slumped in Harry's grasp, who hastily put him down.

"Alright there Harry?" Sirius asked worriedly.

Harry rolled his eyes and shot his godfather an exasperated look; the one creature in the room that had been screaming for the past thirty seconds was being ignored by him.

"Kreacher, what was that about?" he cautiously asked.

"Kreacher nearly broke Master Regulus' trust, Potter," the old elf said miserably.

"Regulus? That slimy-"

"You are not fit to speak his name you rotten pile of-" Kreacher roared before once again going for the wall.

Harry dove into him this time, looking at Sirius to show a little tact in this conversation, and he himself was getting a little rattled by the beating he was taking from Kreacher, and his godfather's casual indifference to the sufferings of the elf.

His godfather in fact looked incensed by the reminder of his dead brother and of Kreacher protecting him. He looked about ready to curse something, so it was rather lucky for the small object that suddenly popped out of thin air onto Harry's back that it was only hit by a powerful stunner by the on edge, rehabilitating man who had spent the last ten years regretting not defending Harry properly.

"Harry Potter!" the small figure managed to squeak out before it was hit and thrown against the wall by a red light.

Everyone else froze, in confusion, in shock and in Harry's case, anger.

"Why the hell did you do that!" he said, rounding on his godfather, who backed away two steps.

"Someone just appirated into the house, on top of you! What was I supposed to do?" Sirius said, bottling his own anger up because he could see Lily's old temper building beneath Harry's eyes.

"You decided to attack something, having no idea what it was or if it would even take a stunning spell well? You could have killed him!" Harry said, rushing over to check on the elf.

He seemed fine so Harry decided to see what information he could get first, without waking the elf. He had been beaten badly, from the looks of things, every day of his life by someone. This was clearly one of the Elf's from an old Pure-Blood family that liked to inflict pain on others. He wasn't wearing anything close to a uniform; Kreacher had, under stains and filth, something akin to a toga or towel with a crest on it.

Kreacher...

"Here Kreacher, do you recognise this elf?" Harry asked the old one, who was in fact already looking over the smaller elf in disgust.

" Kreacher knows this one sir. Dobby is infamous for Dobby's hatred of Dobby's master. A lovely Pure-Blood family they are too, the Malfoy's."

Sirius and Harry both groaned. This probably meant trouble for both of them.

"Bring him round," Harry said, "Now." he said more sternly when the man looked warily at the body.

"Harry, we should probably get some binders to stop him from leaving. If he can get in, he'll get out if we start asking questions."

The boy looked over at his godfather, "Why wasn't he in something like that already then, if such a thing exists?"

His godfather looked at him for a while before talking more slowly.

"Harry, wizards are really, _really_ lazy beings. Do you think the Malfoys are going to stop their slave serving them at beck and call by limiting his abilities? Remember, they will assume he is loyal to the family, and regardless, he can ordered not to leave without permission. The fact that he's here therefore suggests-"

"They sent him. Alright, sorry Sirius. I just think we should be more discerning about who we fire spells at."

"My instructor at the Ministry beat that out of us," he said with a grin, "Crazy goblin kept attacking us, in the toilets, in the office, at night in bed. You learnt to be...constantly vigilant."

"Hmm," Harry said interestingly, "Still, we need to bind this little fellow then grill him. Have you got nothing that can help?" Harry directed the question to Kreacher.

"Ooh...Kreacher has many ways of making Dobby talk," the creature said with an evil grin, "Mistress Back's beating spoon has not been used in a long time."

"Kreacher," Sirius reprimanded, no doubt repressing memories of the 'beating spoon'.

"I was more thinking about truth serums..." Harry said weakly.

"Hmph, little master has no sense of adventure in these sorts of things," Kreacher mumbled before popping away to find what he could.

Harry felt...elated? The elf seemed to have accepted him enough to call him master...which Harry was now struggling with somewhat as it had a fair few moral implications.

Sirius caught his worried glance,"Well heck Harry, it's nicer than everything he calls _me_. Don't worry about it for now."

Harry nodded quickly before Kreacher popped back in carrying shackles, chains, a saucepan and...with what seemed to be great reluctance, a vial of fluid that looked like liquified dog muck.

"Wahrheit Offenbarer," Sirius said in disgust once he picked up the bottle and examined it. "A Grindlewald creation...ugh, the glorious taste of the Black family, eh Harry?"

"Is that...safe to give to him?"

"Nope, but it's going to be the only thing that's going to work. Veritasium is a stronger potion on wizards and Goblins, but House Elf's have never been studied as extensively and Veritasium barely scratches their psyche. You'll have to quiz Dumbledore, or Snape if you're feeling brave, if you want to know more."

Harry looked at the stunned elf for a moment.

"Bring him round," he said after snapping the shackles round his neck, wrists and legs.

The elf was in considerable distress when he awoke, but calmed down somewhat when Harry said that they meant him little harm...yet.

"You are Dobby, of the House of Malfoy?" Harry queried the figure, to see whether what they already thought they knew was right.

"Yes, Harry Potter sir. Dobby is the wretched elf of the Malfoy family."

That remark had him trying to bite his own tongue out, but it wasn't long enough.

"Dobby, please answer our questions and then we will let you go, okay?" the boy said softly, trying to be kind even through his tension.

"Oh, Dobby is hearing of your greatness sir, but never your goodness!" the little one said reassured in full.

Harry bit back his anger at the elf being _happy_ that this was all they were doing to him. He was going to try and help this one if he could later.

"Why did you come here, Dobby?"

"Dobby has come to Harry Potter, to warn him..." his eyes bulged slightly before he forced out, "Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"

Sirius was watching closely. The elf wasn't going against order's yet, but he was getting close to. He sighed when he realised he was going to have to force the potion through him.

Harry couldn't contain himself this time, "What! Why would I leave? Hogwarts is my..." he looked up with a flash at Sirius for a second, "...school," he finished lamely.

'_That hurt,'_ Sirius thought, surprising himself by how attached he had gotten to the kid within two weeks. He wasn't exactly shocked, Hogwarts was his refuge too from an abusive house, but he had so hoped that Harry had started to identify with him and where he lived.

"Dobby," he said, quashing these thoughts for now, "does this involve someone you can't speak about?"

The prisoner's reaction spoke more than his gurgle to Sirius. The fact he was now struggling to break something on the floor meant his masters were definitely involved.  
Harry looked half-approvingly, half scoldingly at Sirius. He was glad the man was trying to not use the potion, but this sort of self inflicted pain, even if unsuccessfully, was horrible to watch.

"Dobby, one last question. This danger will come to Hogwarts, whether I am there or not?" Harry asked.

"Dobby...doesn't know sir. He only knows that it **will** come if..." and his voice suddenly died in his throat.

_'Damn it!' _Harry thought.

Sirius considered the information for a second before steeling himself.

"Sorry Dobby," he said, quickly throwing Harry out of the way.

He flicked the stopper out of the vial and used his wand to make the liquid flow out and into every pore of Dobby's tiny body.

The elf started screaming and convulsing before them, Harry being held back by both Kreacher and by Sirius' look.

_'Interfering now would only cause more damage,'_ he seemed to saw with his eyes.

Harry was starting to feel the press of hot anger on his mind again before flicking it away.

_'Pull yourself together boy, lives are at stake here!'_ he thought to himself, mentally smacking his head as he did so.

Dobby had quietend to a wimper now and the body had stopped moving, apart from the eyes, which were flickering upwards, showing the massive whites of his eyes in full.

"Elf," Sirius said in a sharp, commanding tone, "speak to me. What is the danger that is coming to Hogwarts?"

"My master will send into the school an object of great power, that shall cause death and pain."

"How?"

"By opening the Chamber of Secrets."

Suddenly, the bindings glowed blue, which apparently meant something to Sirius. He whirled his wand quickly around, sending the liquid right back out of Dobby back into the vial again.

He was just in time, as when he had just pulled the last of the fluid out, Dobby vanished in a flash of light.

"Sirius...Sirius what just-"

"Come on Harry," Sirius interrupted, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of the room.

"Get a cloak on and come back down here. We need to visit the Headmaster."

Sirius looked scared, for the first time since Harry had known him. He wasn't scared at the trial, not even with the Dementors in the room. Now however...

"Ready," Harry said, skidding back to Sirius' side.

"Kreacher, Hogwarts, as close to the headmaster's office as you can manage, please," Sirius said curtly.

The old elf moved forward with a fair amount of disdain, grabbing both if them before teleporting them out.

* * *

Dumbledore had just finished packing for his yearly trip to Wales before looking up sharply as Sirius Black and Harry Potter burst into his office in great excitement.

_'This...this will not be good,'_ he thought to himself as he sat them down and began pouring tea.

"Albus, the Chamber of Secret's is going to open again," Sirius said, causing Dumbledore to spill tea all over himself.

_'Oh_...' was all the great wizard could think.

"I sense this is going to be a thrilling little tale, so let us all move to the Penisve," he offered, directing them towards the bowl full of semi-liquid memories.

* * *

He looked grim when they surfaced after watching the proceedings again.

"First, I would thank you two for acting with great initiative and determination. If you had simply revived...hmmm...Dobby, he would have escaped with even fewer details being passed to you. I must agree with Harry though, Sirius. Your caster happy reactions aren't conducive to a family atmosphere, especially since this creature is clearly in some trouble and distress. This news is disturbing, even if it may turn out to not occur. This warning is invaluable."

"We have to close Hogwarts," Sirius said, looking like he was sucking a lemon as he spoke.

"On what grounds, Mr Black? You have performed an extremely controversial peace of dark magic on an unreliable source and received a few hints that the school might be in danger...of a myth," Dumbledore said incredulously, for once, outright showing his frustrations in his voice and movements.

"Lucius Malfoy is on the board, and as such will get me sacked before listen to my fears, particularly as he is the instigator in this plot. No...the school will remain open to all. Hmm, but Harry, you might want to take Mr Dobby's advise. You will, for whatever reason, be at a centre point in whatever game Malfoy thinks he is playing."

"Could he be working for Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Doubtful, he hasn't got the character to obey a weak master in another country. Far more likely that this is something he's doing by himself," Sirius answered.

"I am inclined to agree, Sirius," Dumbledore said, "I don't know what he knows about the Chamber or how to open it, but he certainly must be wanting serious upheaval at Hogwarts to do this. I suspect he has finally stopped dithering about being a former Death Eater after the events of last year...and perhaps the events the Wizenmagot were privy to...which, I'm sure you'll you both understand, shall remain a state secret for now."

"Draco Malfoy probably knows if his father does," Harry said, trying to argue against the man across the desk from him.

"Perhaps, but I don't think Lucius trusts him enough with any sort of secret, the fact that Dobby knows is probably by default, meaning-"

"He must have been ordered to help in some way, or activate something or bring the object to him!" Sirius finished off Dumbledore's pondering.

"I'm feeling out of the loop here," Harry said feeling slightly irritated.

He didn't like not knowing something, particularly not something obviously as important as this.

"The Chamber is mentioned just as a fairy tale at the end of Slytherin's chapter in Hogwarts: A History, and how did Dobby manage to escape so easily?"

"Dobby was bound by the shackles, but the House Elf's highest power is reserved for his master's will. Lucius or some other Malfoy had called to him to attend to a task, and he was easily able to escape. Whilst he displayed a remarkable defiance against them, and tried to answer our questions, he is still a slave to them," Sirius answered his second question.

Harry was feeling a little guilty for basically torturing an elf before watching him go back to an abusive family.

"I removed the potion because if he was still under the influence when he went back to Malfoy's, he would have been killed and Lucius would have been out searching for us. It's better to know what he's up to now rather than change his plans and have no idea. The bindings gave us a few seconds warning and were able to hold him for moments so I could remove the potion. After it leaves, it's untraceable."

Harry nodded, and then looked towards Dumbledore, who leaned back in his chair and started speaking, "The Chamber was built, according to legend, by Salazar Slytherin hundreds of years ago. It was hidden from even the other founders and is such, not really part of the school at all. No one knows where it is and the wards of Hogwarts do not interact with it. This makes it very difficult to find, as we are looking in Hogwarts for a room of non-specific size surrounded by incredibly advanced and ancient stealth enchantments.

The monster within either replicates itself or lives for hundreds of years...unfortunately, quite a few creatures fit that description. The legend was proven true fifty years ago when several attacks were committed by 'the heir of Slytherin', who at the time was discovered to be-"

"Rubeus Hagrid," Harry finished with a sinking feeling, "But Hagrid wouldn't-"

"Exactly Harry! Hagrid wouldn't be a murderer and the monster he was rearing within the castle was no where near strong enough to kill a Muggle-Born student. The only death, but more horrible for her family because of it. Hagrid was expelled and young Tom Riddle was rewarded by Headmaster Dippet."

At Dumbledore's mention, a portrait on the wall looked ashamedly away.

"At that time, the Minister for Magic was a young fool called Dasam Margrew, who later grew to be a very cruel and imperious Minister who led the war against Voldemort last time. He blamed Hagrid as a quick and easy fix, though in truth he was a Pure-Blood supremacist through and through and didn't exactly care whether the real heir got caught or not. Dippet caved in before him and our own very talented Tom, whilst I was already under pressure by many to face off against Grindlewald himself, even though I had already intervened in the conflict thrice already. It was, for all of us, a very dark time, and Hagrid paid the price.  
I tried...Well, not very hard at first but I tried to help him in any way I could. When my suspicions were confirmed later as to the true heir's identity, I even began teaching him magic again privately.  
As to the heir himself, he went from strength to strength after Hogwarts, becoming more powerful before eventually shedding his identity and becoming-"

The two others gasped in horror, "Voldemort!"

"Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the finest spawn of Slytherin House, the finest wizard Hogwarts had the unfortunate fate to teach, formed an innocent man and was already killing by 16. The attacks stopped after I turned my concentration upon him in full again, and the Chamber has remained silent for years."

Dumbledore looked extremely old, Harry realised when he had finished. He had never thought of the headmaster as weak or beatable, but he looked it now.

"So...we don't know what the monster is?" Harry asked, wondering about narrowing it down somewhat.

"Unless, and we of course cannot rule it out, the creature is of Slytherin's own creation and design, a few beasts do single themselves out for a long life span. Unfortunately, none of them can petrify people," Dumbledore said glumly.

"What?" Sirius said.

He had heard something of the Chamber opening from both his own parents and the Potters, but had few details on what happened to the victims.

"Sir, Fantastic Beasts and where to find them is not a complete list. Scamander himself says that a compressive list of all magical animals is an exercise in futility'" Harry said, not willing to admit defeat already.

Dumbledore chuckled softly to himself, this boy certainly was determined.

_'Hmm, well, we do have something to go on...it's flimsy but I don't see the harm in showing them,'_ he thought before raising a hand.

"Quite true Harry, now that you mention it, I do have one more piece of evidence at our disposal," he said, pulling a memory from his head and getting up to add it to the pensive.

"You see, the student who died here, as luck would have it, became a ghost on our grounds."

"Really?" said Sirius, "Wait...that wouldn't happen to be Moaning Myrtle would it?"

"Moaning Myrtle?" Harry asked.

"I'm suprised at you Harry. I would have thought you would have been in one girl's toilet by now," Sirius teased, laughing when Harry blushed slightly.

"Oh, you must tell me about that one later. Yes...now, Myrtle, a very unusual thing she is too, very weepy and sorry for herself. Gave James no end of trouble, constantly popping up in the bathroom trying to see his-"

"That will do," Dumbledore said lightly.

Now was not the time to be talking about goings on in bathrooms!

"Gather round and we shall she what she has to say for herself."

Harry watched as a much younger looked Dumbledore stood in front of Myrtle asking her what she could remember about dying. After listening to her prattle for some time, she finally talked about 'big, yellow eyes...by that sink'.

Sirius, Harry and the memory Dumbledore all started forward to examine the sink whilst the old Dumbledore remained watching the girl with an air of sadness about him with his head bowed downwards.

"There's a snake on one of these taps!" Harry yelled and Sirius looked over.

"Yes...this is one of the activation places to open the entrance," he said, touching the snake as he spoke.

"Activation point? Isn't the entrance under the sink?"

"Harry..." Sirius said, raising a hand to his eyes,"Magic? The entrance doesn't have to be just behind the key hole. It could be _anywhere_ in the bathroom, or outside in the grounds. I bet theres multiple entrances, presumably quite a few outside to let the creature out and eat."

Harry bit his tongue and tried not to look too abashed at being so dumb.

"Sirius, I suspect that the Chamber contains a room that puts the creature in a stasis state, making it sleep and require little to know food or water, perhaps only once or twice a century letting it out to roam the grounds for one might. Only the heir can let it roam freely," Dumbledore said to the other man.

They were put back into the office but remained hunched over the pensive, each deep in thought.

"A creature that kills with it's eyes...or hypnotises people with them before killing them. That speak to a serpent...which of course makes sense for Slytherin's monster," Harry noted, who was trying to think of powerful one's that fit the age range.

"Dragons then?" Sirius asked the room at large.

"Hmm, that makes little sense, as no wounds were found on the girls body. It was as if she had been hit with the killing curse, the Avada Kedavra Harry...wait...WAIT!...That spell was created after extensive study of Basilisk eyes," Dumbledore's eyes widened considerably before rushing with considerable speed to his personal library.

Harry and Sirius looked at each other pale faced, for once, both knew exactly what the headmaster was talking about.

The king of all serpents, the equal of the Dragon. As far as Harry knew, only a rooster could kill one with ease, everything els had the triple problem of the deadly eyes, deadly poise and sheer raw power a Basilisk possessed. It was a creature that could only ever have been created by wizards, and dark ones too. Slytherin creating one himself probably meant the thing was extremely large and powerful, possibly the largest ever made, unless Voldemort himself made one, and Harry wasn't sure that he hadn't.

Dumbledore returned with a very old book that went into Basilisks in great detail. It was worse than Harry thought.

Basilisk's fed not just on beasts and birds but on _magic_ as well. If it had been at Hogwarts for a thousand years, contained safely away in a chamber, it must be...enormous, far bigger than the size of a usual Basilisk...and probably far more powerful. It's poison kills everything, almost as lethal as it's eyes in that nothing could defend against it. Dumbledore looked contemplatively at Fawkes for a second before returning to the book. Rooster cries could kill a Basilisk if heard, though only Hagrid kept any roosters at Hogwarts and they were next to the forest, not the school.

"What do we do, sir?"

"Now Harry, you and Sirius are going to go home and try to enjoy your summer. I shall inform the Minister, who I must say, is coming on in leaps and bounds since you last met him, and then I shall enlist the help of a few friends of mine to help protect the school and look into this mysterious artefact of Lord Voldemort's that can open the chamber as easily as he can..."

Both others gasped at the implication.

"Well, at least we know where one of those things is," Sirius said, trying to be optimistic.

"Meanwhile, if Dobby should show up again, tell him you know about the plot and beg him, on your hands and knees if ness carry, to allow this plot to continue. We need that Basilisk in the open sooner or later or I shall not allow students within these walls again. Hogwarts will lose no more people to Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore ordered, a fiery spark shining in his eye.

Harry nearly protested but swallowed his anger at being pushed aside. He had a good reason for keeping a young boy out of this, and Harry definitely didn't want to see this Basilisk near him at any time in the future, or handle a part of Voldemort's soul. Just the thought of being near a piece made his skin crawl.

"Yes sir," he said after consideration.

Next to him, he saw Sirius visibly relax, which caused him to look a little sheepishly at him for blowing up at him and yet not the headmaster.

"Right then Harry, I believe we were reminiscing on my despicable family? And you my boy must tell me about this toilet 'incident'."

Dumbledore shook his head smiling as the two strolled out of his office chatting.

_'Wales shall have to wait old boy,'_ he thought sadly for a second before getting up, stroking Fawkes once and then got busy sending out gleaming white versions of his familiar to various people.

_'Ah well, at least I'm running a dozen other people's holiday's as well...'_

**Author's Note: **

**Say goodbye to the canon people. It may sneak back in again once or twice, but from now on following it with smart people would really mess with everyone's heads.**

**As to whether they were right to use dark magic and interrogation techniques on Dobby...I shall leave that up for debate.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	27. Chapter 26: A new leaf

**Disclaimer: Everyone can become better at being a person. Shaping however, is another story... J K Rowling is somewhere else, baking or writing or buying shoes.**

Chapter 26

Sirius was slumped in a chair, drinking himself into being philosophical.  
It was, he reflected, the damn kid's fault for bringing this all out of him now. At eleven o' clock at night, he was still busily carving some novice runes into his glasses, which was, whilst impressively fiddly, earned his godfather's disproval for being up so late.  
As the boy had stormed off in a huff, the sudden realisation action hit him like a punch to the stomach and a kick to his glorious loins at the same time.

_'Holy s**t, I just ordered a kid off to bed!'_ he thought, astonished at how it all suddenly hit home that he was now, like it or not, the surrogate parent for Harry.

He needed him, despite his independence streak, he was going to need someone to support him, to believe in him.

_'I...can't do this. I'm not ready,'_ he mentally stammered.

The years in Azkaban had hurt him, not made him mature or grow up. He was suited to the task he was relishing doing when he saw James' terrified face the first time he held Harry, being the fun uncle.

He couldn't be a father...not yet.

There was no way he had the energy, the drive or the commitment. His body and mind were shattered with abuse but he was honest enough with himself to know that even if he hadn't gone to prison, he still wouldn't be suited.

James, for all his immaturity when he was younger, revealed his true self when he mastered his inner animagus form: that of a proud and noble creature, dedicated to protecting others. Sirius was...well, a dog. A dog then and a dog now. He could protect and defend, but he wasn't responsible or even that good a person.

_'No, I fought Voldemort, and I would have died fighting him if that's what it took,' _Sirius rebelled, slamming his fist down onto the table in anger at himself, _'Maybe I was an arsehole at school and was an arrogant prick. I fought in a war, I lost ten years in prison and the first thing I did when I was free was apologise to Snape. I am maturing and taking responsibility, you self doubting idiot, so buck up and start realising it!'_

He knew Harry himself had self doubt, even after his successful first year, but he wasn't Harry and he wasn't eleven years old any more. He was a man, and it was time to start acting like one. That letter from Madam Bones he had received a week ago was a good place to start, even with his physical condition he could start preparing to restore his life back to a degree of normalcy for himself. He supposed he didn't have to take her up on the offer immediately though, which meant he had the rest of the summer with Harry to figure things out and make some decisions.

When he checked in later to make sure Harry wasn't reading under the covers or quietly writing more notes on runes, (_'Sorry kid, you ain't getting away with anything in this house,_') he collapsed onto his own bed, not quite drunk enough to realise that this was probably the last time he was going to be drinking for a few years.  
_'Ah, parenting...' _he mumbled into his pillow before wandering off into sleep.

* * *

The following morning, Harry was busily composing what he would write to his friends.

_'Now Ron isn't going to read something that's more than one side, so I better stick to location, how things are good, and to ask whether we are still on for three days from now. Better stick some Quidditch questions in there somewhere to make sure he writes back within two weeks,'_ he decided quickly, writing a message to that effect with ink and quill with smooth precision and swirling letter strokes he had learned from Penny, whose script was by far the best out of everyone he knew...except perhaps Dumbledore, but then he was hundred and eleventy and had probably spent fifty years practising that.

_'Hermione is more complicated,' _he thought, pondering exactly how much parchment he was going to need to fill out all the questions she would no doubt be asking him if she were here now.

_'Perhaps that would be easier, but then I would have to send a letter to ask her, I don't know how far away she lives and she will probably hold a short letter against me anyway...'_  
His quill twitched before he started writing.

* * *

"Hedwig!" Hermione shouted when the familiar beautiful owl tapped on the kitchen window.

Her mother looked up from her coffee and journal with a confused expression on her face whilst her father stayed engrossed in his newspaper. Hermione wouldn't have put it past him to have had impossibly heard the nearly silent owl landing on the outside sill.

"Oh, this is Harry's owl. Remember, wizards use them to deliver letters?" Hermione said as an explanation whilst letting the large bird in.

Mrs Granger got up as an owl was brought willingly into her kitchen, her expression towards Hermione broadcasting her fears of a mess on the floor.

"Um...she's pretty smart," Hermione said uncertainly, giving the owl on her arm a finger stroke, which earned her a hoot back.

"Hmm, don't shoot the messenger...and yet what if the messenger defecated all over your floor, hmm," Mr Granger said, flicking over a page.

Alex rolled her eyes and relaxed, as was intended by the comment, she was sure.

"Oh, it's a letter from Harry!" Hermione said excitedly.

"You astonish me, my girl," her father said.

He had quite a dry wit, her dad, which unfortunately for him wasn't appreciated much in his job as a lecturer for medicine at his college but invaluable in his household, first for calming his wife down whilst Hermione did something rather advanced for her age (which was common place) and when she got older, stopping his wife from panicking over her baby from going away to school or about the magical world in general.

Hermione ignored her esteemed father's comment and perched on the breakfast table to read the letter. Her mother stood surreptitiously behind her, reading over her shoulder, whilst her rather tall father merely straightened in his chair and skimmed the letter, before leaning back again and chuckling to himself quietly into the paper.

The letter so ran:

_'Good morning Hermione, (and I have full confidence in Hedwig's flying ability, so I'm sure she'll reach you before noon), we are all settled in here now.  
Sirius still looks bone thin but he's better than he was. The house is amazing! We have a fully stocked library, with several _hundred _books all compiling pretty much the most comprehensive and in depth guide to how to be competent in the dark arts. It's pretty fascinating stuff actually...and yes, I have looked for everything we've got on Horcruxes. It's pretty much what we know already, but it gives me a whole new wave of disgust and contempt for the apparent insanity of the man._

_Anyway, I'm fine and in relatively good spirits, the House Elf (an indentured servant race, I know, I hit the roof too,) Kreacher is almost constantly spouting off some form of garbage from his mouth, but is funny in his own way. He's treating me fairly well, and me and Sirius are doing okay too, I guess. I think prison hit him hard and he's drinking a bit...at least, he did look drunk last night when he went to bed. I was looking out for him you see, because I was working on my glasses project before he told me to go to bed. I carried on after his door shut, and I can't wait to show you the improvements! Well...first I have to convince Sirius to activate the runes, since I can't do magic here...ah, shouldn't be too difficult._

_So, how has your summer been so far? I hope your parents aren't being too clingy with their daughter after she spent most of the year out of their sight. And if they _are _reading this over your shoulder, it only proves my point.'_

At that, Alex blushed slightly and ducked her head a little behind Hermione, whilst her husband tried not to laugh.

"Oh god...she's found a younger version of you," she sighed towards her husband.

"Good lord, how interesting! I've always enjoyed talking to myself," he answered quietly, not wishing to disturb their daughter, who was still lost in reading.

_'I'm not exactly sure if we are within a reasonable travel time for you, but if we aren't send a letter back and we'll come to you. If we are, we would be delighted to have a day out with you and your parents. Here is the address.  
I hope to see you soon,  
Harry._

"I like the cut of this boy's jib," Mr Granger offered to Hermione, knowing his daughter enough to know that she wanted their approval in this matter.

He just prayed his wife didn't hold anything against Hermione's friend just because he spent a year with Hermione and she couldn't anymore.

"Well, London's not too far, and it's still fairly early. We can go if you wish, Hermione," Mrs Granger said, already knowing the answer.

"YES! I mean..." she backtracked a bit when she realised she had screamed that out a little bit, "Of course I would like to go."

"Ah London, I need to go there anyway since your mother insists I have to wear suits to those ghastly little occasions. I told her that we wore robes over our clothes anyway but..." Mr Granger tailed off as he saw his wife giving him her custom 'silence' glare.

"I can take you, yes. Do you have any appointments dear?"

"It's Sunday, dear."

"It is? Excellent."

Mrs Granger sighed internally before she grinned widely at both of them.

"No..." both said, taking various steps backwards, Mr Granger doing an odd shuffle in his chair to achieve the desired movement.

"Oh yes, we all need new stuff anyway. We're going shopping!"

The other two groaned under their breath before her, both knowing exactly what qualified in her mind as shopping. She was a maniac, pure and simple. In fact, they should probably put her away before she got any more obsessed with clothes whilst prowling the shops.

"This is on you, little one," her father intoned.

_'Oh well,'_ she thought internally, '_it'll be worth it...right?'_

* * *

The Grangers were astonished when they drove into the street full of lovely town houses. Alex for one was glad the rather poor looking boy on the platform was living in a nice place now.

When they parked and went up the road, counting the numbers as they did, they paused confusingly when the numbers skipped one, exactly the one they were looking for too.

When the houses began moving to make room for the ebony black town house that was appearing, by magic, their mouths hit the floor and only shut when the door opened and their daughter ran towards the small figure that emerged.  
Hermione stopped before she hugged him this time, staring at his clothes.

"Hermione?" Harry asked confusedly.

"Oh sorry, hi Harry!" she said.

The boy was wearing slim fitted, deep crimson trousers with braces coming up over his shoulders. His shirt was a slightly brighter scarlet shade, whilst his jacket was deepest black. He had a complicated silky looking neckerchief around his neck that was honey-gold in colour. Overall, her friend was finally wearing clothes that matched his personality, subdued and yet still vibrant somehow, unassuming but sublime.  
And a little mad.  
Yes, the look suited Harry well.  
His voice again reminded her that she was gawking like a fool, and she flinched before hugging him tightly.

"Of course," he said sighed lightly, which made her feel better; it meant he was starting to accept her hugs as something more than an annoying thing she liked to do to people.

"Good morning," he said respectfully when her parents reached them.

The mother looked quite happy to see him and greeted him nicely, if not yet warmly.  
The father looked at him like Harry was an ant under a magnifying glass.

"Hmm, quite a good get-up there my boy...yes,yes, quite excellent. Of course, you have made the rookie mistake of not buying a hat but I'm sure we can fix that...possibilities, possibilities!"

Harry looked into an older version of Hermione's golden brown, diamond jewel speckled eyes and noticed how they seemed to be focusing on him and then glazing over every few seconds, as if the man was experiencing burst of intense concentration followed by deep thought.  
He decided to like him.

"Ha, he sounds like an older version of you, Harry!" Sirius' voice came from further down the hall, "Come on in everyone, I think some of us need a sit down."

Harry supposed this was directed at Mrs Granger, who wasn't quite ready to fall down but was on the way there.

"I'm so sorry about..." she started before she saw the grins on all three males' faces.

She bit her lip a little as she went inside, _'Of course they were going to get on well with each other,' _she thought dryly.

She loved her husband deeply, and he had infinite amounts of patience with her when she went too far, which Alex knew she did now and did not have quite so much when _he_ was over the top, but in most cases, he was either very well behaved or incredibly funny.

The last time he had ever truly embarrassed her was when she made the mistake of taking him to her church. To his credit, he made it through the opening hymn, but almost as soon as the sermon started he began laughing in his seat, eventually falling out of the pew and onto the floor.  
She was furious when they got home but her anger abated when he started explains how he had found the tiny man with the squeaky voice, a large bushy beard and who wore long white robes and sandals in a golden box so terribly amusing. She was relieved he wasn't actually belittling her faith, but he never took any interest in God and she didn't press him again.

* * *

Hermione in her element as Harry immediately took her to the library where they could both read and catch up on things. All three adults smiled at them as they left before they began talking, seriously about their children and the world they were in.

"So you were imprisoned?" Alex cautiously asked, wondering whether the stick figure of a man with a fine tailored suit hanging off of him really wanted to talk about his injustice and wrongful prison years, but she needed to ascertain his state of mind.

From everything she'd heard and inferred from Hermione, Harry hadn't had much of a childhood at all and she wasn't going to let the young man lose his teen years to this man if he seemed unstable.

"I know I don't look up to the task and honestly, sometimes I doubt I am myself," he said, seeing her question for what it was, "But Harry...you understand that Harry ad I have been through a lot through our lives, and being together, we can help each other out. The boy seems like he's doing well but he still needs someone he can trust completely. He has had to look after himself for a long time and I WILL NOT allow him to be hurt any further if it's within my power to stop it. I'm also one of the few people that have any sort of closeness to him that knows what he went through,as I experienced it myself. He and I, we are more inclined to be independent, and I'm pretty much going to listen and agree with his judgements unless I can see something truly wrong with them. I trust him already, and he is on the way to trusting me. We'll get through this."

Sirius said his piece with all the sincerity he could muster, honesty echoing throughout in his words. Alex nodded, still troubled slightly with the knowledge that the two people who lived in this house had been so wronged by so many.

"He is remarkable," Bartholomew said after a few moments of consideration.

"That he is," Sirius agreed, "He isn't completely alright...I know he flinches away from most people and he is slow to trust...and there is something about his detachments I can't quite place, but he's a good boy. He still has compassion to those in need and some degree of attachment to people, which shows in how he treats his friends."

The Grangers smiled widely.

Bart was still mulling over the two children and decided to give voice to his thoughts.

"Hermione is an exceptionally bright child. Whilst I...I know I have a very muddled up mind, hers is crystal clear and always ready to learn. She cares so much about _everything_ that is important to her. I never knew with certainty that she would act this way around people, but she is doing so with Harry. It is...remarkable," Bart said quietly, seated as he was with a straight back and his hands together in a triangle, staring of with a glow in his eyes.

This was why she loved him, Alex knew. He saw so much and took joy in everything. She had caught him looking at a blackbird for twenty minutes as it simply basked in the sun. He was the most attentive father she knew of, never diverting his attention away from his little girl, no matter how it seemed on the surface.

"I agree. I don't know where it will take them, but they are certainly going to be good friends for years. My only worry is that it will end badly...puberty can be...confusing for everyone," Alex said after a while.

Her husband's lips twitched upwards.  
She cringed a little at what he must internally be laughing about.

He had been completely oblivious to her and all other advances throughout Sixth Form and University. She on the other hand, had acted like some hormonal rabbit until she finally calmed down. She wondered why exactly he suddenly decided to say yes two years after graduation when he had been politely running off for so long. He did though, and they had been happy with each other for a long time now.

"You assume to much dear," he said, cutting off her stream of thought just as it ended. He was rather good at judging that.

"I wouldn't presume to know how either would react, since Harry has only been interacting with people properly for a year and Hermione has never expressed any real indications of any kind," he said, expanding upon his remark.

It was a rebuke, soft as it was, and she could tell what he was thinking.

How the hell did they even know 'which way they'd swing', or how their relationship would pan out?

Both were close enough already and basically lived together, they were more like siblings from what Alex had seen. And why did it matter anyway, it wasn't going to come up for a few years yet and was beyond their control anyway.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," Sirius said, shuddering slightly.

_'Ah-ha,' _Alex thought, _'at least I have one ally if things go South.'_

"So, Mr Black, what do you wish to do with your new found freedom?" her husband asked, leading to a line of conversation that went straight over his head and made the other two laugh very hard indeed.

* * *

"Wow," Hermione whimpered as she took in the large room filled with books and comfy seats.

"Did you just whimper? People actually do that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Marry me Harry," she half whispered, half hissed at him before diving into the rows of tomes.

Harry snorted before going over to his workbench and started tinkering with his glasses again. He reckoned she would spend at least a minute roaming around eagerly before she realised what she had said.

A shriek and a red faced Hermione that appeared forty five seconds later made him giggle before he nodded his acceptance.

"So, how did you improve your gla-  
How did you do it without-  
How did you carve in runes without seeing clearly?" she asked at top speed, answering her questions herself before she settled on one.

"I got some new ones," he said simply.

"Oh..." she said, red faced again out of irritation at missing the obvious.

"Yeah, I'm going to use these better ones for house use, improve the familiar, well know ones to the best of my ability and then copy them exactly onto an die tickle pair, so I'll have Mark 1 glasses and replacements."

"Mark 1?"

"What, you think I won't improve something in my remaining six years at Hogwarts? Remember, when my eyes stop growing, I can adapt these to contact lenses."

"Fascinating!" Hermione said with genuine curiosity. "What have you figured out already?"

"Only a zoom function, an adjust and a recording motion," Harry said, passing the glasses to her.

They made her brown eyes very large and he could see her squint.

"Voice activated this one, Adjust!" he said sharply, causing the glasses Hermione was wearing to suit her eyesight (20:20 if the optician was to be believed, which she should be...).

"Alright?" Harry said concernedly, not just for her yes but to hope that his creation didn't break.

"Brilliant! How does the zoom work?"

"Focus on straight ahead, then blink rapidly five times. Then it will zoom in whatever the glasses are looking at. 2x, then 5x then back to normal. Blink five times to alternate."

"It's a strange sensation," she admitted after her eyes had grown large and then filled the lens from Harry's point of view, _'Note to self: put a chameleon rune under each lens on the frame. Hmm, Mark 2 should be much improved when I learn about glass transfiguration and manipulation. Might have to search out the Rune professor, whoever that might be. This note is getting too long...'_

"It's very impressive considering you could only put stuff on the frame," Hermione said, wondering whether that was jealousy or admiration in her own voice.

"Sirius said so too. He offered to fix them up himself but I want to go through the process...Should teach me more effectively," Harry said, his English becoming more noticeably fragmented to Hermione, which she knew meant he was trying to talk and ponder a few dozen things at the same time.

"Maybe you should let him? He is your guardian after all, and you did help him in the trial. Perhaps he wants to do something for you," Hermione suggested, knowing that Harry was quite independent, but deep down quite liked it when she or someone else cared enough to help him.

"I...I suppose I could. I don't know why but I-"

"Can't bring yourself to ask someone for help?" Hermione said softly. "Harry, you have to start trusting people, you can't go through life on your own."

"I've gotten far."

"Yes...but not far enough. You need to trust Sirius, even if just a little. He truly seems to care about you and you need someone other than Voldemort in your life."

"Before we met, pretty much everyone I knew hurt me on a daily basis. Dudley physically, those other two in worse ways," Harry said quietly, still flicking through his notes, but with unseeing eyes.

A hand caught his mid turn.

"Do you trust me, Harry?" Hermione asked seriously, rather more quietly than even her normal voice within a library.

_'Do I?'_ Harry panicked desperately. _'Would I take something she said as fact, trust her to do the right thing, come up with a good plan? I thought she and Ron wouldn't hand me over to Voldemort like Siri- like Pettigrew did.'_

Tentatively, he answered with a, "Yes...?"

Hermione blinked furiously for a second before looking away.

_'Oh...yeah right, probably should have lied...'_ Harry thought too late.

"Look...I trust you more than just about everyone I know. That is...I trust you to be right, to know things and to be the person I know and like...but you seemed to be asking if I trusted you implicitly, like I could fall over backwards and know you would catch me.

I don't think that. I can't think like that at all yet. I've never seen anyone ever do anything nice for me without a reason. Dumbledore is a good man but has been quite outright in saying that I am useful to him, though I suspect not in the ways we have talked about already. Sirius has taken me in...but how do I know he would do that if his dead best friend hadn't demanded it? I...I can't...I-"

Suddenly, Hermione understood.

All along, she had know he had something of a self confidence problem, of believing himself to be inferior to just about everything else in the universe. Some of that might be from his ingrained sense of modesty but a great deal came from his abusive past. His relatives had never given him anything without demanding the earth back.

He thought he wasn't worth anyone's time unless they needed him for something. She wasn't privy to most of his conversations with the headmaster...because he didn't trust her...but she knew that Dumbledore wasn't cruel or evil enough to use a boy to achieve his own ends.

Sirius was ready to open his heart to Harry and he only saw crossed fingers and false smiles because that was what he had come accustomed to seeing...even at school. She had seen the fan club, Daphne Greengrass and the other enterprising, nasty people that wanted a piece of her friend for their own benefit. She herself had viewed him as a puzzle and not a person before she came to know him.

"I'm sorry Harry," she said, both mentally and vocally.

She felt great wells of pity and grief for the now frozen downwards face of Harry whose icy demeanour reflected her...and everyone else's wrong doing.

She felt a little sick.

"Hermione...I'm sorry too. I don't -"

"Don't you DARE say you don't deserve _me_, Harry Potter! You are the smartest, bravest and bestest (_'bestest is not a word dear,' _her astral father said,) person I know. _I_ don't deserve you!" Hermione suddenly started yelling, almost shaking her words into him.

He looked on, a little shocked, as the bushy haired bookworm defended him against himself with a passion he didn't often see in her.

She was slightly pink in the face when she was done but Harry had heard enough anyway.

"Congratulations Miss Granger, take a thousand points for Gryffindor," he mumbled, barely making his joke heard before he laughed into her small frame, knocking whatever wind she still had out of her with the first hug he had ever initiated with anyone.

_'Hmm, it's not a bad feeling...Could be worse...although the hair gets in the face a bit, doesn't it?'_ Harry fragmentary thought in between bought's of intense shock over what he was now doing.

_'Well...maybe I've finally come to terms with myself and embraced the crazy...'_ another unhelpful part of his mind said.

The hug lasted about three seconds longer than necessary for Harry; Hermione had ensnared him in an even tighter one that he didn't have the heart, or the strength, to break out of.

When it ended, both children stared at each other for perhaps even longer seconds before Hermione managed a quiet, "Harry?"

"I can see why Humans go into this sort of thing. Not bad for a first attempt, if I do say so myself," Harry was rambling thoughtlessly to nothing and no one in particular.

"What...you think you can do better than me?" Hermione said, arching an eyebrow.

"No...not even falling for that one. This isn't going to be a regular thing, just for occasions when you do something, you know, extraordinary," he said dryly.

"Oh...well," she said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"Hermione...you do realise we're magic right? We do _extraordinary_ things five times a day at minimum," Harry said with a small smile.

She answered that with a much larger smile, and not just because of her larger teeth.

"Oh...by the way, your glasses have gone a bit lopsided," he said with a bigger grin, causing Hermione to place the magic glasses on the table carefully before enveloping him in 'mutual hug N.O 2'.

* * *

One shopping spree later...

* * *

"I enjoyed that," Harry said with enthusiasm after everyone else in their party had dropped into their preferred padded cushioned sitting object.

"You see, he gets it," Mrs Granger said to the other three people, two of which were looking at them both like they would very much like to kill them, one was too exhausted to even look up.

Alex Granger had effectively both led and forced upon the charge to the shops upon the others, with Harry being cautiously curious whilst the rest were already wearing their customary faces of despair.

_'Really...it couldn't be so bad,' _Harry thought to himself once they entered the first set of clothes shops.

Harry had only ever been to the shops in Diagon Alley before, and most of those had been interesting in some away, with his favourites changing with every visit. The modern wizarding tailor shop, opposite the street from Madame Malks traditional wizarding robes, was a marvel of colour and material. Sirius clearly enjoyed wearing something that wasn't made out of nettles, whilst Harry enjoyed having something that fitted, didn't smell of Dursley and looked much less depressingly bleak than his old clothes, the colours of which had long ago disappeared.

It turned out he had liked Muggle shopping almost as much as the store managers liked money, burning a significant amount on himself and Hermione, having waved away the Grangers protests of financially crippling him at the first store by absentmindedly telling them his by off handedly stating his main account balance and the galleon to pound going rate. Not that he had access to that yet but his parents personal vault of gold was Certainly his now...Well, and his tuition vault, though he didn't think it was wise to empty that one so easily.

Mrs Granger had turned out to have a brilliant eye for an individual and their preferred style and interests. Harry had approved of her suggestions for shoes and socks, something the wizarding tailor did not do a great abundance of, since he realised he did need trainers, a fairly heavy pair of work boots and some normal black shoes for everyday wear for the sprint, hike and marathon that was a year at Hogwarts.

Hermione and Mr Granger were constantly hanging back and trying to escape down side alleys and streets but even they admitted that they liked their own pick outs.

"I can't believe she makes us do this every two months," Mr Granger said to Hermione after two hours meandering through London.

"Everyone needs an outlet Dad, and besides, Harry seems to be enjoying himself," Hermione said, the pair smiling as they both recalled his reaction to entering Hamleys a few minutes previously. Suffice to say, that he wasn't going to be coming out for some time.

Sirius was not _as_ eager as his young godson, he was after all, a grown up...Still, he had never truly shopped for anything before that wasn't food, pranking equipment or Hogwarts stuff, and he seemed to view the huge toy shop as the Second Coming.  
Both boys had been swept away by the kind of magic you couldn't really see but always knew was there inside of this place. Mrs Granger actually had to call time on their wanderings eventually, even she was itching to go somewhere here else.

By late afternoon, Sirius' meagre supplies of energy were spent, which was fortunate for the two _non-insane _Grangers, who were also exhausted, but didn't have a medical reason to take it easy.

Grimmuald Place had never looked so inviting to Sirius as he slumped comfortably in his chair and dozed as the four others fought a verbal battle as to the pro's and con's of shopping for longer than absolutely necessary.

"A great shame that my wife has corrupted you, young man. You showed such promise," Mr a granger said, shaking his head sadly.

"Really Harry, you didn't need to buy me that much stuff," Hermione said for the thirty seventh time, causing Harry to, once again wave his hand as if to say, '_think nothing of it,'._

"I don't know Harry, you make my daughter happy, you love shopping with me, all you have to do is take Bart's course and you'll have all of us under your thumb," Mrs Granger joked.

"Pish posh, anyone who buys such a magnificent specimen as that hat deserves respect," Mr Granger said offhandly, casting slightly envious looks at the other man in the room, who was lucky enough to be sleeping through all of this.

"You must come round for dinner some time Harry, and Sirius as well of course. We leave for our holidays in a few weeks but you are welcome any time before or after then," Mrs Granger said kindly, causing Harry to give her a grateful nod whilst Hermione perked up a little from her grumpy expression.

The lazy, relaxed atmosphere that was slowly enveloping the group was shattered with a crack when Kreacher appeared.

"Young Master, it is time for afternoon tea," he aid in his croaky voice.

When the elf took in the three obviously Muggle people sitting and staring at him, Harry had only three seconds of thinking and reacting time before both sides started screaming.

* * *

After waving the three Grangers happily goodbye after an additional two hours, one and a quarter of which had been of Sirius going through some extremely complex social issues, he turned to Harry in the doorway, "Phew...explaining the concepts of House Elf enslavement to three indignant people at once whilst trying not to murder your own is _not_ something I wish to do again Harry."

"It certainly looked interesting to watch," Harry said helpfully.

"Hmm, yes, I do appreciate your excellent strategy of sitting back and watching me work..."

"Yes well, Hermione pointed out I should start trusting you to look after me," Harry explained.

Sirius' expression softened, "A good friend, that one."

"The best."

Sirius peered at his charge for a moment. Sometimes Harry seemed so much older than his eleven...well, nearly twelve years. And yet he still was fairly fragile and not ready to take on the world by himself. He at least, was smart enough to realise that. Perhaps that was why he was looking to Sirius for aid but regardless, Sirius saw the opening Harry was providing him with and decided to take it.

"You know, I rather like being responsible for you," he said after that reflecting.

"Huh...It's not exactly raised by wolves but at least I'm being raised by a doggie."

"Wait...I'm not a doggie!" Sirius said as both Harry and a sneaky Kreacher began laughing, "I'm a _half-wolf, half-Grim_ animagus, not a doggie!"

"Doggie," the other two insisted in between sniggers.

"Master should be notified it is a nice evening outside, perhaps he would like to go walkies before his dinner?" Kreacher asked with a completely straight face, conjuring a lead and a collar in his hands.

"Urge, you are never going to let this go are you?" Sirius groaned.

The two smaller people shook their heads gleefully before giving each other a conservative high five when he turned away to go kick the wall.

"I bet you turn out to be a Robin or something," Sirius said quietly to himself as he rubbed his foot.

"Cheers Kreacher, you always have a way with words," Harry said with a chortle before turning and walking up the stairs to continue his work.

**Author's Note**

**This one took a little while to get out because at first Harry let slip what he and Sirius had done in the previous chapter...you know, torturing a helpless elf, the slavery thing...Hermione took it about as well as you might expect.**

**I then started debating with myself as to whether Harry would even let that slip, since he was still privately dealing with it...in the end, I decided to keep things slightly less confrontational in this chapter which is mostly about the two occupants of the house changing.**

**I would of course, love to hear your thoughts on the matter. **

**I feel I kicked Ron out a little, but then again, Harry was visiting him in three days and would rather talk face to face, which is why he does the same with Hermione in the letter, knowing she doesn't have a magical means of getting to his house. The Knight Bus by the way, is not mentioned in the school library.**

**Thanks for reading, please review!**


	28. Chapter 27: Relics and Reminiscence

**Disclaimer: Well...you know.**

Chapter 27

"Yes Professor? What do you need?" Charles Hardy said to the headmaster as he marched through the emails green flames, barely pausing in his stride to swipe the soot from his uniform.

"Lord Voldemort had in his time here a ring of historical significance, a ring he was quite attached too. He wore it for some time after he came into possession of it before it mysteriously disappeared from his presence. Since I have discovered that this ring was not only a valuable heirloom of Slytherin, his house's namesake, but also personaly attached to the young Tom Riddle for some time, I suspect it to be-"

"His first attempt at making..._Horcruxes?_" Hardy asked, pondering on the implications of maniacs who couldn't die.

"Just so. Finding where he hid it is one thing, obtaining it so we can destroy it will be even more difficult."

"Exactly how tough are these things going to be?" the old soldier asked, already calculating the possibilities of merely finding the target location and then bombing it to smithereens.

"Alas, it will be difficult. It has to be put beyond magical repair which if you remember from your days in the field-"

"You people can fix just about anything..." Charles murmured back.

_'Damn, looks like this is going to be more difficult than I thought,'_ he thought grimly, leaning over the table to get a good look at the map that had just appeared there.

"Secluded little village in the countryside...well, at least it won't be too difficult to keep people away."

"Hmm, pinpointing the exact house location will be difficult. I just pray he hasn't put it under a Fidelius Charm, if so it will be nigh on impossible to find," Dumbledore said, frowning heavily under the big bushy eyebrows.

"Didn't you say you had a memory about this house?"

"Oh yes, but that was over fifty years ago. The brush and shrubbery will have grown out since then, and regardless, Voldemort will have certainly made it irritatingly difficult for people to find the hiding spot, even if they knew where the house was originally."

"What do we do then?"

Dumbledore leaned back, winced as his aged bones cracked unpleasantly, and sighed.

"I think we need some help with this one. I will go first on a reconnaissance mission to find the charming hovel, then I'll come back with some curse breakers and a platoon of Rakers," he decided, glancing at the other man to weigh his own opinion.

"Sir, I recommend you having guards with you as soon as you arrive. Let's all go in, cordon off the area and then let you and the curse breakers go through this...hmm, bit small for a road...lane, top to bottom, systematically."

Dumbledore smiled ruefully, "Ah, here is where I must tell you that I am a teacher and protector more than a fighter. Of course you are right Charles. When will your troops be ready?"

Charles Hardy grinned at him.

"We are always ready sir."

* * *

"Okay, okay Sirius. I promise I'm serious about not calling you 'Doggie' again. Can you please stop peeing on the carpet?" Harry begged the overly large wolf/dog/Grim (whatever a 'Grim' was), who was currently running throughout the house, stopping only to pee and howl.

The peeing was of his own volition.

The howling was because of Kreacher and his saucepan.

"All it took was the magic word, pup," Sirius said, laughing as he transformed back into the matchstick man he was normally.

Harry glared at him, "You are NOT calling me that!"

"Oh, and why should I not? Are _you_ going to start defecating?" Sirius said in mock fear.

"Note: Must look up how to neuter pets," Harry muttered darkly, causing Sirius to jump backwards slightly, sending him sprawling into Kreacher, who was not best pleased at the way he was treating the Noble and Ancient House of Black.

"Ah, you need to lighten up my boy, James was never..." Sirius tailed off before slapping a hand to his mouth.

Harry had frozen in place.

"Um...okay. I'm not going there again," he said weakly as Harry regained his composure.

_'Nice one mutt, comparing a child to his dead parent. Smooth.'_

"Okay, this is obviously a little sore for both of us..."

"No, I'm sorry. It's just...I'm only ever compared to my parents. I raely hear anything about them, except from Hagrid...and well, you know how he makes everyone out to be.

"Oh..." Sirius said dumbly, not entirely sure how to proceed.

It was the third time in as many days that he cursed giving up drinking.

"Whilst we're on the subject...is there anything you _would_ like to know more about," Sirius asked, cautiously treading over the ice that was threatening to settle in the room.

They had had a few chats about his mum and dad before but it wasn't _enough_, not nearly _enough_ yet to go through everything that Sirius remembered or that Harry wanted to know about.

Harry idly kicked softly against a chair before throwing himself down in it, his usual elegance noticeably lacking as he thought.

"How did you guys do it? Become animagus so easily?" he said, curious not just because he wanted to hear another story but because he was quite interested in trying it out himself.

"Hmm, background knowledge first, since I know what you're thinking right now. It took us years to figure it out, it took some complicated transfiguration, potions and a great deal of luck in the timing for us all to do it in our fifth year.

Let me explain: your animagus form is a reflection of you...not exactly your inner spirit or whatever, but still a truthful image of your absolute base qualities. You might be surprised, shocked, offended or even in denial over your form should you ever succeed, but anyone who knows you well will _immediately_ grasp on how much your form actually reflects you.

We started in third year...when we learnt the term in class. Most of that year was spent figuring out how each individual of our group would do it...it's a very personal brand of magic, which is one of the reasons why hardly anyone does it, there's not very many books, just fairly vague hints and tips on the subject. The theory underlining the whole process is written in stone, how **all** transfiguration works, but how you interpret it...well, that basically sums up how well you'll do.

There's another thing too. We had most of the niggles figured out (or we arrogantly thought we had) by the end of fourth year. Thing is, you have to be in a surge year, at the right moment, for your first transformation, or you'll never be able to subconsciously or consciously control yourself in animal form. Even if you are out by a few minutes, it can have adverse affects."

"Surge year?" Harry said confusedly.

"Ah, yeah. You know how a wizard's...endurance-his stamina, how much he can perform and cast spells before exhaustion, and how powerful those spells can be? It grows every year, slowly and steadily, a little trickle that constantly keeps filling you, expanding your powers and capability. It also has the side effect of giving magic users rather longish lives."

"Fascinating," Harry said, quite enthral led by the contact ions that the information had in regards to his own body. He would become much more powerful in time, and from the sound of things, have more time than the average person to develop himself further.

"Well, every decade, you have a surge year in which your magical core grows much more quickly. On your tenth and twentieth birthday for example, you will have a surge in power that will abate only after a year has passed. Think of it as a magical reservoir building up somewhere, feeding you a trickle constantly. Then it bursts, giving you everything. The surge takes a year to finish, before it's back to the trickle again. Same every tenth year until you drop."

Harry nodded, indicating that he was following.

"Well, in your teen years, you have some _extra_ surges, on your sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays respectively. So we could _only begin_ to do our thing when each of us turned sixteen. At various points in that year there were points when the surge peaked in intensity, we had to predict those moments down to the minute in order to give us time to prepare.

We also had two other surge years coming up soon, but if we waited that long, we'd have less time to spend with Moony when he was _the_ Moony at school, which was the main reason why we were doing it in the first place."

"I'm still not seeing the **very** difficult part of this project that makes it hard for everyone," Harry said.

"Hmm, well I suppose our group effort did make things easier. However, remember that that can only get you so far. It took us nearly three years of hard graft before we figured it out. We were subconsciously tailoring the three individual rituals to be more in line with each other. You...are on your own."

"Hmm, that's quite heavy stuff Sirius. Got any funny moments in any of that?" Harry said, half jokingly, still wondering how he could work out his own ritual by the time he was that age.

Sirius chuckled to himself, then laughed aloud after three seconds of recollection.

"Okay, so James had transformed a few times. He had successfully done it on his first peak purge event, but we were still cautious at that point at transforming. This was..what? Part way through fifth year.

We were trying to figure out what he was. He looked...well he sort of looked like the Stag he was going to be but he was a much darker colour, much smaller and had no antlers at all. The weird things was that is form wasn't quite stabilising as well as mine or that rat's was. He seemed to be unsure somehow. Sometimes there would be streaks of silver and white in his pelt, sometimes he wouldn't be able to confer this clothes back onto himself when he had finished frolicking. The Fat Lady took three weeks to forgive him for bounding up to her naked one night, demanding to be let in."

Sirius sniggered at that point.

"Interestingly enough, he was resigned to spending the whole years as 'Shag pile' as we called him then, when he... Well, he basically saved a twit's life, saved me from prison and stopped Lupin being put down like an animal."

Sirius looked down in shame and Harry swiftly spurred him on with the story, making a note to ask him about that later.

"So any way, it was the darnedest thing...but the next day, there he was. Prongs, king of the forest and all that. Made me feel even worse than before. I not only nearly killed my best friend but now my other best friend had a _cooler_ form than me."

Harry sat back, thinking about the mysterious man-then a much younger one, his father had been.

'_Christ, God, whoever is up there. Please don't let me be a Bunny Rabbit,' _Harry thought desperately, before he began plotting as to exactly how he would be ready and waiting on his sixteenth to take hold of his inner 'animal'.

* * *

_'I know what to do,'_ Lucius Malfoy thought to himself.

For the first time in far too many years he walked with a new found optimism and delight, causing all who knew him well to withdraw from his presence slightly, in order to better protect themselves from whatever scheme he was planning. His slave in particular was removing his disgusting visage from sight far too often these days...but no matter, no matter.

_'Who would have thought something so simple would have confirmed my faith in the old ways? I shall be the great instigator, and shall be heralded when He rises once more.'_

All thanks to a mere dusty diary.

"Luciusss..."

**Author's Note**

**Yes, this means animal forms.**

**No...it's almost certainly not the forms you are thinking for most of the characters...although to be honest, Harry himself WILL have a form that you will see coming a mile away, though as ever, with a twist.**

**As we are going off the beaten track, some stuff you might have liked from the canon won't be here anymore. If there is anything you desperately want (or something you really hate and want put down) you can always request. Do please leave suggestions as to what things you want me to pay particular attention too. I won't guarantee everything, but I feel that we should attempt to explain or 'fix' as much stuff as possible if we can.**

**And as ever, thanks for reading and please review (oh, and make sure you have PM enabled so I can respond!)**


	29. Chapter 28: Rapscallions

**Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling, a version of her from a different time or an alternate reality. I am a nobody who thinks too much about the four children's stories and three really weird books that came after that she wrote. Enjoy!**

Chapter 28

"Come in," Dumbledore said lightly to the oaken door entrance to his office.

"Professor Dumbledore, _Sir_!" a well groomed man said, bounding into the room as if on springs.

"Ah...Gilderoy..." the headmaster said.

The blonde man was jumping around the place looking at everything.

_'Measuring for curtains?' _Dumbledore thought, suppressing a grin at the man's impudence.

"Yes, excellent. _Superb_!" the man said, coming out of his sweep, "I would _love_ to come and teach at Hogwarts! It would be...perhaps not an honour to me but to the school itself it would...well anyway, when can I move in?"

Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at the gushing man before tapping his fingers on the desk absentmindedly. He continued to do so long after Gilderoy became twitchy due to the lack of response.

"I must admit, I find your qualifications to be among the worst, most awfully useless, false and illegal of any prospective teacher has come to Hogwarts with, in all her histories," Dumbledore said finally, noting the complete unchanging face of the said useless prospective teacher.

He would have been surprised if the man had listened past the first six words.

_'Moron.'_

"I must confess actually, that I was beseeched to ask you to come here tonight by another."

"Really? The students _begged_ for me did they?" Lockhart said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"Not exactly," Dumbledore said merrily, "No, it was actually the DMLE. They want to arrest you on several charges including illegal obliviation, bribery of officials, varying degree's of con artistry, assault and fixing popularity contests."

Dumbledore looked at the man who had been smiling until the last word. Now he looked like the bloody Baron had passed through his lower body.

"So I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to give me your wand and calmly be led away," the old mate said, a small part of him hoping that he would put up a fight.

Lockhart did not disappoint.

Screeching at the top of his lungs he leapt up onto the headmaster's desk in an attempt to grapple with him. Dumbledore lazily flicked away the moron's wand before sharply pushing him backwards.

Lockhart hit the marble floor hard and lay there whimpering.

"I'm afraid my safety is at stake and I'm feeling slightly afraid for my life," Dumbledore said gravely.

"I, the invisible man Lockhart can't see and doesn't know is here, concurs with Albus Dumbledore's remarks and also admit to _fearing_ for my safety. I have no choice but to use everything at my disposal," Sirius Black's voice sounded throughout the room, originating from a table on which he was perched under the invisibility cloak.

"Kreacher!" Sirius shouted loudly after both he and Dumbledore retreated to his private study door to watch.

"What do you know, the traitorous scab has a Black bone in his body after all," Kreacher muttered as he faded into existence, saucepan and spoon in hand.

Gilderoy whimpered as the mad elf edged closer towards him.

With a battle roar, the ancient elf descended, thwacking the man's knee with the pan whilst ramming the spoon down onto his head.

"Now then...Kreacher will make the foolish one even more senseless..."

* * *

Gilderoy was relieved when the two men eventually gave mercy and threw him into his temporary cell.

"Now, that's what I call a good night's work," Sirius said wiping his hands.

"Hmm, just don't make a habit of this, even if they do deserve it. If you follow the rules, I imagine you'll have a much better time of it here than your last...attempt," Dumbledore said neutrally, stepping into the fire. Sirius looked at the ground guiltily for a second before Dumbledore tapped the side of his long, crooked nose, winked and vanished into emerald flames.

Sirius laughed-a harsh bark, once before turning around to file the paperwork needed to go with the arrest.

_'Sirius Black, Hit Wizard,' _he mused, '_Yeah, still sounds as sexy as hell.'_

He grinned at the thought until he opened his office door and found the large pile of parchment waiting for him.

This was going to be a long night...

* * *

"Fascinating! Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic," Mr Weasley said yet again to Harry Potter, a boy who was right now wishing he had some very basic children's book he could give to the Weasley patriarch to occupy his attention.

He was a nice enough sort of person, very agreeable to whoever happened to be talking, but not so much that he seemed spineless...though Mrs Weasley challenged that assumption somewhat when she got into a rage which, whilst not often, had such a peculiarly awful intensity that made you believe that a thousand years could go by and your ears would still be ringing with her bellows.

Harry therefor admired the presumably insane twins, who inspired their mother's formidable ire more often than not. They were secure enough in their beliefs and identities to stand up to their mother, to make their own way in the world. Whilst they were not the best of students, the two were ingenious in creating a unique blend of havoc and joy to pretty much everyone in their surroundings.

_'I think they will be great one day, in their own way,' _Harry thought as he saw them dipping apples into various vats of potion they had brewed, each coming out in an attractive red colour that caught the eye and demanded that you sink your teeth into one.

Harry would forgo both these and any apple pies Mrs Weasley made in the next few days..._just in case._

It had been two days since Sirius suddenly decided to start working again. Harry wasn't entirely sure what his godfather had wanted with his father's old cloak but apparently he could find out about it at some trial. The Weasley's meanwhile, had made good on their promises of hospitality and Harry was touched a little at the care and friendship he had received from the large family.

Of course when Harry first arrived, Ron was very awkward about him seeing his house and the rest of his family. The house tour was extremely rushed and it was quite clear that Ron still carried some of his rather deeply ingrained feelings about his and his family's apparent inadequacy, even though he also paradoxically pretty much downright admitted that his family were all either powerful, talented or both.

Excluding _himself_ of course.

"So...you support the _worst_ team in the league, with the worst record,the worst side and the worst name?" Harry said confusedly to Ron when he saw his best friend's room for the first time.

"The name is **not** stupid," Ron retorted amicably.

"I notice you are not refuting any other parts of my statement."

"If by that you mean why am I not defending my team properly, well...they were amazing once and they will be so again one day," Ron said with passion.

"Ah...you like an under dog," Harry said to Ron's immediate protest, grabbing onto the offhand comment and twisting it for all it's worth, "Do I detect some identification between you and them?"

"Well...I suppose. They have to live up to impossible expectations when they know they are not as great as the ones who came before-"

"Stop. This is where that breaks down," Harry interrupted Ron's threatening self-drecation, "The Chudleys are crap. They have heart, I guess, but are talentless and brainless. You are neither. You can outplay seventh year Ravenclaws at chess."

"Yeah but-"

"You can do just as well in class as everyone else, in Charms and Potions you are already proficient."

"Maybe' but-"

"NO. Come on Ron. Yes, you might have struggled before Christmas but you knuckled down and now you're doing really well. So what if I beat you at chess once? You went away for an hour and came back to wipe the floor with me! You might be _intolerably_ lazy at times and enjoy food a little too much but come on mate! You're doing alright. And this is only the beginning!"

Ron had gone through rejection, denial, comprehension and a tiny glimmer of pride through phases of his face, before settling on gratitude when Harry had said his piece.

"Thanks mate. Wow...you really like to speechify don't you?"

"It's a talent, my friend," Harry said with a wave of his hand before settling down on the bed to here all about the Chudleys Cannons, the worst team to ever exist in the Quidditch League.

* * *

"Did you hear about the Bulgarian national team?" Ron asked excitedly a long time afterwards.

Harry roused himself from his semi-slumber and focused his attention on his friend. He did like Quidditch but rather more so the flying aspect than the actual game itself. Ron nattered on for so long that Harry lost interest and allowed his eyes to glaze over slightly as he recorded the information that he mostly already knew.

"No, what happened?" Harry asked.

"There's some reports about their new Seeker. Bit of a mystery, seemed to have come out of a local pub team, not even a league one..."

"Really? Is he any good?" Harry said, actually interested.

"Supposed to be one of the world's finest, if you listen to the Bulgarian press," Ron snorted, "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh that reminds me. I read about the 'World Cup'. When does that next take place?" Harry said, wondering whether they could organise some sort of holiday or trip to see portions of it if Sirius was game.

"Hmm...I think the next one is the summer before fourth year. The last one was quite good. Ireland are the defending champions again, third time this century...swiped it off the Portuguese at the last moment during the final. Terrific match that one. Not sure what country it's in. They never announce it to the public until the details are ironed out with the ICW, the QA and the Muggles who run whatever country they are holding it in. There's some rumours that it'll be in a Home country though. Why? Do you think you could go?" Ron explained all this with a speed and an excitability that would have impressed Hermione.

"I imagine Sirius could work so thing out, perhaps we could all go?" Harry speculated, but frowned when he saw his friend's gleeful face drop.

"I'm...not sure that we could af-" Ron didn't deem to be able to utter any more syllables so Harry came to his rescue.

"I'm sure I or Sirius can pay your way. And no, don't worry about cost," he said sharply as Ron looked up in protest, "If they don't give me tickets for free and beg me to come I'd be somewhat surprised. I may not like being the Boy-Who-Lived but I must surely be able to milk _some_ good out of it."

Ron looked conflicted. On the one hand, he seemed sympathetic to Harry being misidentified as something he really wasn't...at least, not yet any way. The boy was not a hero or a superstar. He was his friend, Harry. On the other hand, Ron was fighting bouts of jealousy and indignation that his friend had so much power and wealth whilst he needed his pity to do anything fun. That side of himself was beaten down however by the much wiser, more honest part that had grown significantly this past year. His friend was benefits of family and of normalcy, and here he was willing to give his friend an invite to a premier sporting event purely because he was a good person.

Ron Weasley was many things, but he wasn't a fool (when he was thinking, anyway).

"Well...let's not worry about that now. Thanks though, Harry. It's a nice gesture," he said with a grateful smile.

"Ah, it's fine. If you had a fortune and had the Ministry paying you hand over fist because of their cock-up, I think you would have offered to do the same for me," Harry said.

"I guess you're right," his best friend said, getting up and shifting through some papers ('_nice to see you have a good filing system, mate,' _Harry thought,).

Fred and George burst in unexpectedly and caused what Harry was sure was the uncompleted majority of the holiday homework to cascade from Ron's grasp in a hypnotising artistic waterfall effect.

"Nuts to you guys," he muttered under his breath, his head bent down to pick up the paper meant Harry could see the reddening backs of his ears.

'_Curious little trait that,' _he thought to himself.

"Yeah, yeah little bro, learn to lock your door," George...(_'wait...Fred? Damn, they weren't wearing shoes!'_) said dismissively.

The other one (_'seriously, I need to either figure out a distinctive feature or maim one of them to create one,'_) said that tea was nearly ready.

An interesting quirk about the Weasley's was that they called 'Dinner', 'Tea,' even though they didn't actually eat at tea time or drink the stuff.

_'Just as well, it's hardly the greatest drink in the world.'_

Mrs Weasley was a smashing cook and pursued it with the same enthusiasm, but with far more success, as she did with her knitting. If it was true what they said, Dumbledore was far better on that front.

"Ah, there you are Harry!" she said with a beaming smile when he entered the kitchen.

She said that a lot, as if to reassure herself that the small boy hadn't disintegrated in the short time he was out of her sight, although he supposed that in the Wizarding world that that couldn't be as impossible as everyone would have liked. Mrs Weasley then fixed a steely glare on the twins who descended the stairs after them. Harry had no clue how badly they behaved at home to warrant this level of scrutinisation at every encounter, but their mother still fussed over them and worried about them, especially when they were down in the village mucking around.

Molly Weasley was many things but above all she was a fierce mother, and Harry made a mental note to never harm her children if he could help it. He wasn't sure he would survive her wrath.

"Mummy, when are we going to Diagon Alley?" a high-pitched voice said from further back in the kitchen where the boys couldn't see.

"Tomorrow dear," Mrs Weasley said without a hint of exasperation, even though Harry felt sure that very question had been asked twelve times a day for the past week. Ginny was a small mystery to him, as he had never seen her apart from at the dinner table. It was understandable of course, her being the youngest in a boisterous household but the way she jumped when he looked at her confused him a little. Ron was no help what so ever, rolling his eyes whenever his sister did anything of that nature as though it meant something.

Harry had enjoyed his stay thus far at the Weasley's, and as the settled down for dinner that evening, he felt oddly peaceful. It was a curious thing for hi to be so relaxed in so intimate a setting; the family dinner table for him generally meant nothing but just out of reach food and his own despicable relatives than this happy place.

'I could get used to this,' Harry thought happily as he accepted a third helping from the gracious Mrs Weasley.

All was well.

* * *

Diagon Alley was still as pretty as his memories indicated. When he stepped out of the...most remarkable fireplace transport system (which he filed away under 'Ask Hermione and Sirius later), he was dazed for a few moments but retained his balance (just) only to nearly fall over again as the rather more uncoordinated Ron fell out behind him.

The sunlight streamed through the bustling street and the shops were full of clamouring buyers and overworked cashiers.

'_I guess magic can't solve everything,' _Harry thought.

"Harry! Harry, look at this broom!" Ron moaned deeply, pulling his friend along to stop at the window of the Quidditch supply shop.

"Nimbus 2001? Great..." Harry said dully, irritated that his own broom was now going to be second fiddle to someone else's.

"Are you complaining that you have the _second best broom_ in the world?" Ron said incredulously, causing Harry to feel somewhat ashamed at being so petty, especially in front of Ron.

"Reckon you can convince the Nimbus company to give you another one for free?" Sirius asked, behind and above them, peering over their shoulders to view the price tag.

Harry pushed down the sudden, irrational fear at having an adult looming over him and thought up quickly of some words he could assemble into a reply.

"I...don't know. I suspect they got a lot of free marketing out of me using their old broom...thought I might have to sign a deal with them this time," he said, giving Sirius an uncertain look.

Black leaned back immediately, mentally kicking himself at intimidating and then seemingly trying to exploit Harry.

"Nah, I think your broom is good for another year," he said scratching his unfamiliar feeling clean shaven face.

Being back on the force meant losing a few liberties: along with drinking and shacking up with the ladies of the office, the facial hair had to go too. Mad-Eye wasn't even leading the Aurors any more but you wouldn't know it from the posters dotted around the walls of the department or the Auror handbook, enchanted to fire of spells randomly to test reflexes...even at three o' clock in the morning.

"Mr Black, did you play Quidditch?" Ron asked, earning himself a death glare for calling the 'hip-cool' Sirius 'Mr Black'.

"My brother played for Slytherin...Keeper...no wait, Seeker, from Fourth Year to Seventh. Prick," Sirius said, mouth curling inward. "I wasn't allowed to play and I didn't want to steal James' thunder anyway, since he was such a delicate little boy about people moving in on 'his' game."

"What, really?" Harry said, amused at the image of a fifteen year old getting in a tantrum over Quidditch.

"Yes. I still played mind you," Sirius said, which caused the two boys to snigger, "You don't think I'd miss a chance to take some swipes at my brother did you?"

Harry chuckled and moved on to Flourish and Blotts, eliciting a groan from the other two

"Shut up," he said, already becoming lost in the forest-well, not really a forest...small woodland perhaps?-of books.

"Harry, I promise you our library has everything they have...and you've read a good third of that."

"One quarter," Harry said dismissively, "And our library scares me. The floor doesn't sound right."

Sirius nodded along with the Weasley boy's eye rolling at the strange comment whilst simultaneously celebrating on the inside.

_'He called it 'our' library! Merlin's beard, he might actually be starting to accept the idea of 'us'.'_

"They aren't for me by the way, they're for Hermione," Harry said, adding to the three foot tall pile of books as he spoke.

"Ah, getting gifts for the girls son? Excellent tactic," Sirius joked, earning him two completely blank expressions from the boys, confusion emanating from their eyes.

"Could you?" "Elaborate?"

They both asked the same question at a now awkward looking godfather.

"Erm...ah, you really need to ask your mother about this Ron," he said cleverly, knowing that the boy would rather drop dead than ask his mother anything about anything.

"Sirius?" Harry began sweetly.

'_Aww, s**t,'_ Sirius thought.

"You are my mother so..."

"Wait, what?" Sirius nearly shouted, outraged. "I'm not your mother, I'm your cool uncle/godfather!"

"Hmm, keep telling yourself that, doggie," Harry said, rather affectionately.

"Oh come on. You know if it was going to be someone, it would be Remus who would be the mother," Sirius argued desperately.

"Nah, he IS the cool uncle who also happens to..." Harry caught himself and amended, "you know, do stuff."

"I can do stuff!" and to prove it, he turned into his wolf/dog/grim form.

"Ooooohhhh Mummy! Look at the adorable puppy!" a high pitched voice shouted excitedly.

Ginny Weasley ran into the shop to pet the 'adorable puppy' only to find it much larger than she thought and growling at her brother and...oh...

"No one speaks a word of this..." Sirius Black's voice suddenly said, right where the doggie used to be.

To their credit, Harry and Ron kept their faces straight for a full five seconds before descending to the floor in raucous laughter and streaming tears.

"I momentarily dislike you," Sirius mumbled into his hands, leaning against the door of the shop.

He took off at speed when Mrs Weasley appeared.

"Cheers Ginny," Harry said happily as he rushed out after him, leaving both Hermione's book pile and a still shaking Ron to be confronted by his mother.

_'Oh, truly what a beautiful morning this is!' _Harry mentally shouted as he ran after his ashamed godfather, the sun warming his back and the breeze rustling through his hair.

* * *

It took a very long time for Sirius to calm down and to rejoin the Weasleys. They were in for a surprise. For some reason, Mr Weasley was rolling around on the floor with another man.

Harry took in the scene for three seconds before Sirius was picking them both up.

"Hold on now," he said, trying to remain professional and not deprive Malfoy the chance of having another heir.

"This disgrace attacked me in front of witnesses. I want him arrested," Lucius Malfoy said, holding his hand to his split lip whilst eyeing the badge on Sirius' jacket.

He didn't seem to recognise his cousin, which seemed to suggest a concussion to go along with the lip and bruised face, necks and hands. Unfortunately, it looked as if Malfoy had more than enough to go to the officials he he wanted to. Unless...

"Umm, yeah, I'm sure if we go through all the memories of the witnesses here, you'll be the one in the right," Sirius said with a cold glare to the accuser.

This seemed to pacify the white blond haired man very quickly and he left without another word.

_'That was far too easy,'_ Sirius brow frowned as he thought.

"Thanks there, Sirius," Arthur said beaming.

"Next time you want to take him down a peg, do it with a duel Arthur. I doubt this is the last we've heard of this," Sirius sighed.

"Perfect disgrace..._thank heavens Gilderoy Lockhart wasn't here_..." Molly rushed towards them, words falling out incoherently in her rage.

Feeling sorry for the other man, Sirius pacified the incoming explosion.

"I can get you front row seats to an event with him as the star attraction next week," he said quickly.

"Really? What's the occasion?" Molly immediately said, touching her hair on impulse.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Sirius answered, "His trial. He's been a _very_ naught boy. Though you might not know about all that, since his lawyers have blocked the arrest being publicised...not entirely sure how they managed that actually."

A spluttering Mrs Weasley left with her husband and daughter.

"Now then...let's try and avoid any more scenes shall we?" Sirius said in a cheerful voice, seemingly forgetting...or suppressing, the past half hour's events.

"As you say...Sirius," Harry said with a grin.

"We are going to have a talk when we get home, young man," Sirius said, shaking his head at the boy's audacity.

"Yes mother."

'_Damn it!'_

**Authors Note**

**EDIT: Whoever caught that Sirius WAS and actual Quidditch player, thank you. That's fixed now.**

**This story is doing far better than I had expected and I am tremendously pleased with the results so far...however, I haven't heard much feedback from people other than my invaluable regulars. Seriously, it's nice to know what you like and what you don't like about a certain chapter or the story in general. **

**I'm considering making a forum for this fic, since it's only going to get more complicated later on...and I can't put every though into these notes or PM's. Thoughts on that, and anything else to do with this story would be appreciated.**

**EDIT: I am on HarryPotterFanFiction, if any one wants to talk to me at length about the book.**

**Please review, and perhaps even favourite or follow if you like.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	30. Chapter 29: Going Home?

**Disclaimer: I don't plan on making any money on this but then agin, if I wanted to I couldn't.**

**Because I'm not J K Rowling...**

Chapter 29

The Hanged Man pub was slowly filling with it's intake of regulars from the village of Little Hangleton. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and people emanated from every chair and table in the place. It was, in the owners opinion, the central hub of village life.

"Usual today, Mike?" the friendly landlord said as the bar filled with orders from other customers, directed at variously skilled bartenders.

"Aye, thank you Sam. Been a hard day's work today, ain't it boys?" Mike said to, nodding to his side.

"You got that right, sir," one of the young men said.

Sam filled their usual pints up as they chatted. Mike Wright was a well liked member of their little community. He was by far the best farmer in the county and looked after his employees as well as he looked after his flock.

"Ahhhh, thanks for that," Mike said when he downed his first glass, smacking his lips together, "Oh, did you see down our road today?"

"No, what about it?" Sam said, leaning back on the wall.

"Council's finally got their act together and started paving the bloody thing. Should be able to actually get the machinery down there now without damaging it."

"That's great," the bartender said, "That road's been in shoddy condition for far too long, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, but we're counting our blessings these days. There're few enough as it is..."

"Workers didn't give you know trouble did they?" Sam asked.

"Nah, they was perfect gentlemen," one of the hired hands said, the others nodding along.

"Well, let's hope they're done by Monday, then we can get bring the tractors in ourselves instead of driving them over McGloin's fields!"

Laughter rang out along the bar and continued on well into the night.

* * *

The town of Little Hangleton was a normal, quiet and isolated spot, away for all the bustle and humdrum of city life. According to the people who know such things, it was a quaint little place that truly harkens back to the days of yore.

Any resident would therefor have raised an eyebrow at several dozen people with guns showing up in a quiet country lane along with several odd fellows in wigs and robes.

It was just as well that anyone who would have happened to stroll down the lane would merely take in the not so uncommon presence of several groups of workmen fixing parts of the road. The various farmers who used the road daily were hardly surprised, since the road was constantly in a state of disrepair and there were signs up redirecting traffic at the entrance either side.

None of them could have known that the signs were emitting subtle charms to make everyone feel distinctly less curious at the already common sight, or how the supervisor was actually watching all passers by with a beady eye to make sure none of them asked questions.

None if these precautions were needed however. The Muggles went on their way and the Rakers could get to work.

"Found anything yet?"

"Nothing yet sir. The curse breaker estimates that the wards go several hundred feet down, so we aren't going under. We've found _three_ separate magic traps and _ten_ runes that would kill everyone in the street if set off. All disabled, sir"

"Very good, Captain. Keep looking for the entrance. The professor hasn't found anything on his end yet. It's got to be here somewhere."

"Yes sir, we'll keep at it."

Colonel Hardy swivelled around and made his way past the several groups of 'workers', some of whom were pretending to dig, and others who were wishing that they were. Honestly, he really should be back at base, filing.

Then again, this was the first important operation since the troops were called back in, and he wasn't going to let someone cock it up.

"Nothing over there yet?" Albus Dumbledore said, looking up from his minute examining of the hedgerow.

"No sign of an entrance, just lots of wards and booby traps," Hardy said, looking down into the ditch.

"I'm rather glad you talked me into bringing some help, it would have taken me _weeks_ to covertly figure this all out by myself!" Dumbledore said, a little too cheerfully for a very old man covered in mud.

Hardy kneeled down and dropped his voice a little, "I'm growing concerned. We've already dug up far too many enchantments that could literally kill all of us. We need to readjust how we are going to move through the house."

"Mmm," Dumbledore said, suddenly engrossed in a few bent twigs in the dirt.

"I think we need to pull everyone back to a larger meter and send a few people in. There's no telling what would happen to everyone here if the house itself had defences like this."

"Yes...I've got it!" the old man said, pulling back upright as a silvery glow shot out of the twigs and into the earth, shooting through previously invisible lines that appeared to look like...roots?

"Sir, the wards just deactivated!" Curse breaker Toombes said from a few dozen feet away.

"Right everyone! Fall back to the designated safe zone!" Hardy ordered.

"Housebreaker team 1, with me!" Dumbledore said, literally shaking off the dirt to reveal a more form fitting outfit than the ones he frequently wore.

_'Magic_,' Hardy thought as he marched back behind their safety barriers and waited for the all clear signal.

"Alright everyone, please exercise _extreme_ caution and don't wander around," Dumbledore said seriously as the small group cautiously paced up to the now uncovered gap in the hedge that revealed the hovel.

"Jackson, Richards, up front. Clear the path," Toombes ordered.

He was the senior curse breaker on the team of six, whilst five Rakers provided them with fire support, should the occasion arise.

"Sir!" one if them said, almost as soon as they had begun their work.

The cracked stones that formed a disjointed path were glowing with different colours of red, yellow, blue and green.

"Stay on the green stones," Dumbledore warned after examine the nearest stone closely, "If you stray from them, you will suffer greatly before you die."

"So...he's trying to insult the other houses, even in his private safe," muttered Jackson as the group cautiously began moving forwards, with the Raker team in the middle with Dumbledore, and curse breakers scanning ahead and behind as they went.

"Let's hope he's as prideful on the inside of the house as well," Toombes said, agreeing with a nod.

They reached the doorway without incident and halted before it.

"Let me see," Toombes and Dumbledore said together.

"After you, Professor," the other man inclined respectfully.

Dumbledore murmured what sounded like gibberish whilst running his hands along the wooden door.

"Careful, this is the point at which I imagine Voldemort would spring his-"

But Dumbledore never finished his warning for the door suddenly sprouted many spear-like shards that thrust towards the gathered professionals. It also shrieked at them loudly in a piercing tone, causing most of the group to stumble back in surprise and in an effort to dodge the spears coming out of the door.

Dumbledore stopped the spears with but a second to spare himself being impaled upon them. Now a flux of hazy blue light warped around all of the shards, holding them frozen in position. He was also stuck in place, holding his wand very close to his chest and sideways, almost parallel to himself. The field emanated from all over the wand, forming a string of energy that enveloped the spears and saved his life. If he moved, the spell would break for a second before reattaching.

Everyone else was much relieved at their apparent lack of being impaled. The curse breakers actually grinned and looked around at other members of the group with smiles of relief on their faces.

Unfortunately, two men had fallen from the path and onto the grass.

The group stared at them for a moment, horror slowly replacing the dumb shock on their faces.

The two men looked back, frozen in surprise and terror.

The ground suddenly erupted violently around them as dozens of roots that looked positively snake-like shot out to ensnare the two helpless curse breakers.

The Rakers reacted quickest, sending a hail of bullets into the roots that were not directly in front of the wizards. However, bullets barely stopped the attackers as they penetrated straight through the two's bodies, causing both to start convulsing as the roots tore apart their insides, screaming in agony.

The other wizards were desperately flinging every spell they could think of in a desperate attempt to save their comrades, tears clouding their vision and rage fuelling their spirits.

The two men suffered horrifically in front of them all for the next ten seconds, the cursed roots taking time to cause the maximum amount of pain before finally, blessedly, the two fell slack, held up only by the many roots coiled in and around them.

Blood was erupting from all over their mangled bodies as the roots twisted and turned to doge the bullets and spells still being fired from those safe on the path. Blood and gore was dripping from their razor sharp tips as they performed their macabre manoeuvre.

The ruined bodies were pulled swiftly under along with the rest of the roots, vanishing from the group's sight as suddenly as they came.

There was silence amongst the men as the adrenalin wore off and the blood stopped pounding through their veins.

It didn't slowly sink in that they had just witnessed _bloody_ murder, it clenched their insides with iron hands.

Only Dumbledore and the Rakers were in full control of their facilities, for of course the headmaster had seen but only heard of these events, having his back to the group at he time. After helping the headmaster force the door back into it's normal form, the defeated team carefully made their way back to safety, leaving their former friends behind, buried under the grass.

Rakers immediately swarmed the lane when Dumbledore signalled, scanning for threats for a moment before taking in the despairing tone of the retreating wizard unit and realised they were too late.

Hardy's stare pierced Dumbledore's as both men quietly took in the horror of their surroundings. Both men were quietly thinking about how many more were going to die on both sides to kill the monster that easily destroyed those two young men. Both were inwardly terrified of what it would take to win the war a second time.

'Dammit,' Hardy thought as one of the wizards from the squad was violently sick, 'How the hell am I going to do this?'

* * *

"RONALD WEASLEY! GET UP, WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!"

"That's our ride," Ron mumbled sleepily as he rolled over.

Harry rolled his eyes and, placing his arm over his best friend, rolled him onto the floor.

Spluttering, he catapulted himself upwards.

"What the hell was-"

"Your mother," Harry cut him off.

"Oh..." Ron said quietly before scrambling into clothes as quickly as he could and throwing things around his already messy room with great gusto.

Harry sighed briefly before turning on his heel and ducking out of the room. It was the 1st of September once again, only this time the day was seeing him in a much better situation. He had been visiting friends throughout his summer, along with bonding with/antagonising his new Uncle Padfoot (they had finally worked out what to call one another affectionately two days before, with Harry being called '_Harry'_). He had been eating and exercising as per Wood's instructions ('"Don't over do it Harry, but try to put on _some _weight...I don't want a Seeker who is thrown about by a light breeze"').

As the two families, one chaotically large, one so very small and new in comparison made their way to the train station, Harry was content and happy, a welcome new norm for his state of being.

"Now remember Ginny, don't worry about your first year. You'll have your big brothers to look after you and to keep you out of trouble," Mrs Weasley said reassuringly, half to herself and to her only daughter.

Harry hadn't seen much of Ginny until the last time he visited, when he finally figured out a way of getting her out of her room: Quidditch. It was then that he discovered one of the better fliers of the Weasley's (and that was saying a lot).

"Don't worry, Mrs Weasley. She'll be safe with us..." Harry began, before considering that that statement might not be entirely true considering what happened last year.

"Thanks Harry," Ginny said shyly, smiling at him under her hair.

She did that a lot.

"Yes," Mrs Weasley said distractedly.

She had been getting steadily more panicky as the morning went on, and now they were pulling up to the platform (in a dear little blue car no less), she was beginning to lose what little control she had left.

"I say Freddy."

"Yes, brother dear?"

"What a _delight _it will be to have another partner in crime?"

"So true...so true."

The twins laughed until Mrs Weasley turned around and shot a death glare at them.

"Ah..."

"On second thoughts..."

The rest of the car relaxed as the Weasley mother regained her head by shouting at her two miscreant sons.

'Thanks' Harry mouthed to both of them as they winced under the verbal assault.

He was quite sure they meant to do that.

"So remember Harry..." Sirius began when they had loaded a compartment with all their trunks.

"Don't screw around, and more importantly, don't get caught," Harry grinned back.

"Good boy," the older man smiled.

Suddenly, the mood had turned rather sad as both child and adult looked at each other.

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Sirius said, breaking eye contact with Harry after it became uncomfortable for him.

He mooched around in his blazer pocket for a minute before pulling out a 15 by 10 hand mirror. Harry saw several runes covering the frame. He recognised none of them as his skills in that area were only developing.

"Two way mirrors," Sirius explained, "I have the other, see."

He pulled out an identical one from his breast pocket.

'Huh, now I see why he had to pay double for that pocket lining,' Harry thought dryly.

"You just say your password and my name and we can talk."

"Wow, that's cool! Can you demonstrate?" Harry said excitedly.

"Sure," and Sirius whispered close to his mirror before tossing Harry the other one.

"Sup, pup?" a miniature, but still irritating Sirius said to him from his outstretched hand.

"Remember the agreement," Harry breathed crossly, "This is a neat little device though. Did you make it?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, deactivating his mirror, "James and I cooked this up at the back of Ancient Runes in third year. Though your little project is impressive too."

Harry touched his glasses briefly with one hand, "Perhaps, but this opens a few new doors if I can figure out what you did."

"You know you can just ask me, right?" Sirius said, a little hurt.

"Yes...but there is value in figuring out things for myself. I assure you, when I want to take up combat magic, you will be the first person I ask," Harry said placating lay, examine his mirror minutely.

"Well,okay. Oh...try not to misbehave in Moony's class. It's the first solid job he's had in a while and..."

"I understand. And I'm sure he can run rings around any trouble makers."

"Well then..."

And they were back to the awkward silence, standing around watching each other and everyone around them.

"I'll miss you," Sirius said quickly, as if saying it at speed would stave off any embarrassed felt at admitting it.

Harry looked down at the ground for a moment.

"Me too," he said quietly, for once not wholly in control of his tongue as it stuttered the words out.

He was not sure what he expected to happen next.

He wasn't expecting the hug.

And he really didn't expect himself hugging back.

**Author's Note:**

**I'm not sure whether I've crossed the Mature rating. Let me know what you think. I really enjoyed reading and responding to the reviews of the last chapter. I hope I get some this time as well. **

**So the hunt is on for the Horcruxes and a new term is about to begin. Brace yourselves, this is where we really fall down the rabbit hole.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	31. Chapter 30: New Term, New Rules Prt1

**Disclaimer: Contains references to dentistry...sorry.**

Chapter 30

The Sorting Feast was, in Harry's opinion, a rather cruel little stunt to play on children so young. Being sent out one by one in front of the whole school seemed to be one of those old fashioned ideas a man like Vernon Dursley would deem 'character building'.  
Ginny had, despite the preposterous worrying of both herself and Ron, managed to get herself into Gryffindor. The only other person Harry saw of note was a little blonde girl who was twitching all over the place.

"Ravenclaw," he said in undertone to Fred.

"I bet Hufflepuff. Looks the type."

"You're on."

One thing Harry really liked about Fred was that he was a massive gambling addict. In retrospect, he supposed that wasn't somthing he really should like about someone, but he did all the same because it was one characteristic he didn't share with his infernally identical brother.

"Aha," Harry said a few moments later when she went into Ravenclaw, her robes tinting blue at the linings even as she walked towards their table.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up," Fred said grudgingly, "I'll get you one of these days, Potter."

The other boy shrugged and looked away, knowing full well that if he ever wanted to bankrupt the Weasley clan (he couldn't think of a reason why, but it helped to be prepared), Fred Weasley would speed up the process immensely.

"Ron."

_"Ron_!"

"Harry, he's doing it again."

Harry snapped out of his reminiscence, _'Watch yourself there Potter, you spent five minutes gazing at your soup,_' and looked towards his two best friends.  
Ah yes, there was Ron, still eating like a demented wild boar with a broken jaw.  
There was Hermione, ruining a book he had bought her trying to stop Ron in any way possible.

"Ron, you know that sausages are made out of the leftover fat, gristle and general waste from a pig carcass, don't you?" Harry said cooly to his friend, causing said friend to gag, choke and then spit out huge chunks of sausage.

"Excellently done Harry. There you are Hermione bet you don't feel disgusted anymore. Tuck in!" George said gleefully from behind a transfigured napkin umbrella.

"Er, yes..." Harry said quickly to a fuming Hermione, "Probably should have thought that one through..."

"You think?" She said, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I...wait, did your mouth get bigger?" Harry said, distracted from saving himself by a certain lack of large teeth in his friend's mouth.

"Oh I...Er, well I had my front two shrunk down a little over the summer," Hermione said with a nervous little smile.

_'Even, quite bright. Very white teeth, less prominent. Yeah, I preferred the old set,'_ Harry thought.

"Do you like it?"

_'Oh dear...LIE POTTER, LIE!'_

"It looks great!"

"Thanks! Mum wasn't so sure so Dad took me in while she went for ice cream. You should have seen her face when she came back, my teeth shrunk and Dad in full oral health lecture mode. The healers looked like they were going to offer him a job there and then," Hermione said, her rushed style of voice a little more coherent now the sounds weren't getting so caught between her fairly previously large front teeth.

"So...are they sold on magical dentistry yet?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Not yet sucker, you still have to go for a check up with my mum some time. She insisted," Hermione said with a most un-Hermionelike smirk.

"Great, great," he mumbled, head tilted towards his lap.

Hermione snickered amusedly into her dinner. She was glad her friend was afraid of something as mundane as a trip to the dentist, it gave her even more hope that under all that ice and messy hair there was a human being.

"Alright, I'll go," he said finally.

"Great! I'll have you in during the break in Half Term.

"One thing though," Harry said raising a hand.

"I know, I know," Hermione said with a smile.

"We have to get Sirius an appointment too."

"Remus, don't worry. Everyone remembers you from school, they are not going to demand you leave just because of-"

"But they shall. I know things have gotten better for much of the past twenty years, but I can't see the Ministry or the Prophet taking this lying down," he said worriedly to Minerva.

"Ah, but with Dolores' little _accident_ and with the Prophet under new management, together with the fact that our esteemed Minister has become the man he should be, there is no reason to fear any more," the headmaster said from behind Minerva.

"I suppose...of course Albus."

"Now remember, there are many safe rooms to bolt to in an emergency, all the teachers and prefects carry syringes of Wolfsbane and Severus can give you the potion every day in the week before the full moon, to ensure you have an ample dose in you when you transform."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"No, thank you. I cannot for the life of me wonder what happened to all the DA professors in England but you are one of the best anyway, so Hogwarts is glad to have you," the old man said before he returned to his cheese.

Remus Lupin looked over the hall of his younger years and smiled deeply. He had regained a brother, avenged Lily and James a little bit and best of all, was going to teach their son to be the best he could be.  
_'Right then Moony,'_ he thought to himself, _'brace yourself. This should be interesting.'_

* * *

It was blustery in the gathering night of New York City. In the UN headquarters, the six officials had called upon a seventh to join them for the meeting.  
The well lit room and comfortable chairs did nothing to hide the cold and darkness of what was being discussed.

"I understand sir."

"I'm sure you do," one of the men behind the meeting table said.

"I assure you, the Raker units will work."

"Everywhere?" A woman said with a raised eyebrow, "Remember, this problem is spreading far and wide. We need a response team everywhere, a new protection for them and for us."

"If all goes according to plan ma'am, there will no longer be a 'them' in one hundred years. We are already seeding heavily populated areas. When the wizards are brought to heel, we will have the instructors. When the first generation is born, we will have the numbers. This project will not fail."

"If..." The man in the centre of the delegation said, letting the word hang in the air.

"Yes, if. And yet, their war is already beginning. The Old Man has made his move and the Dark Lord is moving again. Soon, it will be over."

"And they will come when we call?" The woman asked.

"What else can they do?" The man in the black suit said, "There will be no one to stop me this time."

* * *

"What the hell _are_ these things?" Ron said as he pulled what appeared to be a disgusting dirt covered baby from a pot.

"You expect plants that live in pots buried in earth to be easy on the eyes?" Hermione said, still annoyed with him about his eating habits.

Well that, and the fact that the Mandrake had bitten two of her fingers already.

"How can we hear each other when-"

"Magic earmuffs Harry," Hermione answered his question whilst bludgeoning her plant with a trowel.

"Seriously, we have magic earmuffs?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Apparently," Ron said as he finally managed to get his Mandrake into the larger pot, alternating between throwing dirt in and punching madly at the horror within.

Harry was still wrestling with his own root when his patience snapped.

"Impedimenta!" he shouted at the plant, causing it to shudder to a stop.

He blinked, that particular spell wasn't supposed to stop things completely, merely slow them down. Shrugging, he levitated it over the pot and dumped it inside.

"Excellent work Mr Potter, ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout shouted over the class. "Did everyone see that? It's a common but understandable mistake to forget about magic when practising Herbology and indeed, some of the time magic will be of no use to you.

However, never limit yourself just to what your hands can do if you are dealing with a plant that fights back. Imagine how dangerous it would be if you tried doing that to Devil's Snare or any number of things you'll encounter in the next few years."

The class nodded dumbly before cleaning themselves up and packing away.

"Oh no!" Neville said in horror as they trooped towards Transfiguration, "I was good at Herbology because I didn't have to use spells. Now it turns out I do..."

"Neville, you do well because you enjoy it," Ron said kindly, "Trust me mate, you'll do well in it at OWL."

"Thanks Ron but I-"

"Also," Harry interrupted, "you have been improving in Charms for ages now. Think how good you can get just by practising using them in Herbology. Then you'll be enjoying yourself and improving your spell set."

Neville nodded slowly and looked much more cheerful as they walked into McGonagal's classroom.

* * *

"This is impossible," Harry said flatly after fifteen minutes of everyone failing to transform a beetle into a button.

"No argument here," Ron said, his face turning red in concentration.

"Honestly, the instructions are perfectly clear," Hermione started"

"What! You haven't managed anything either, _you_-"

"Ron," Harry said quietly.

The tall boy stopped short of himself and breathed out. He dropped his head a little.

"Sorry," he said, face no longer red from exertion.

Hermione was about to reply when the professor swooped down upon them.

"Now, how are we doing over here?"

She took in the three unchanged beetles and tilted her head slightly. The rest of the class was at least on the way to transfiguring the insect and her two best...and Weasley, had hit a wall somewhere.

"Hmm, Mr Potter, what method are you using to transfigured this beetle?"

"Er...the visualisation technique from last year Professor," Harry said, looking into his lap ashamedly.

"And you, Miss Granger?"

"The same, Professor."

"That explains it. Until you are very much more experienced, transfiguring anything as complex as a animal is beyond visualisation. That is why, by the way, those shells were empty. Transfiguring something so complex is hard to visualise for before and therefor you must use the words to get you to be in the right mindset to cast."

"But Professor, how does that work, simply speaking the words and making something happen?" Hermione said confusedly, Harry sharing in her bemusement silently.

"I think...yes, I think that is the subject of you first Charms class. Anyway...ah, Mr Weasley," the professor said, looking down upon him.

"I was just using the spell and it doesn't seem to be working."

"Perhaps you should all try again, just think of the words and say them out loud together. We shall then see how to proceed," she instructed them.

All three cast their spells as best as they could.  
Ron's beetle flicked into a spinning flat circular object that _might_ have been a button for a moment before reverting back to an insect.  
Harry's seemed to shiver before a whirlpool began at the centre of the beetles' back. The little insect swirled into it before unraveling out into a shiny button that was bottle (or beetle) green.  
Hermione's attempt skipped the transformation process and proceeded to immediately become a blue button.

"Very good," McGonagal said approvingly. "Your transformation should speed up with practise, Mr Potter. Mr Weasley, your delivery was perfectly satisfactory but you didn't put enough power behind your spell to make it fully change. Transfiguration requires a lot of magic just to cause change for a short amount of time. Permanent change is beyond all of you for now. Oh, and five points to Gryffindor Miss Granger, that was excellently done."

Harry watched his and Hermione's buttons. They were already shaking by themselves and soon reverted back to shape with a little puff of smoke.

"Wicked!" Ron said.

"Perhaps," Harry said quietly.

Hermione's beetle was up and about, flying around.

His had not yet moved from it's resting place.

* * *

"What's Lupin like then?" Ron asked at lunch, with his mouth full of course.

"I'm not exactly sure. He was a massive prankster at school with Sirius...oh, and Dad too. He seemed polite and competent whenever we talk about things," Harry answered, preoccupied with his pie.

"I'm looking forward to this year, he's got to be much better than Quirrell was," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, can you imagine another year with a crap DADA teacher?" Ron snorted, covering the table in front of him in crumbs.

"I swear, I am going to learn the LockJaw jinx this year," Hermione muttered, probably not wishing the other two to hear her.

The fact that Ron was a perfect little gentleman for the rest of lunch indicated that he had.

* * *

"Good afternoon everyone," Professor Lupin began quietly.

The assorted Griffindors and Ravenclaws gave their assorted greetings in as they settled down.

"Now, who can tell me anything about what you learnt last year?" Lupin said, a slight smile appearing on his lips when hands he recognised shot up.

"Mr Potter?"

"Sir, we learnt about the actions available to someone when they are attacked."

"And they are?"

"First, you can be offensive and strike back to defend yourself against an opponent."

"Good," the professor said, writing that down on the blackboard.

"Second, you can be defensive and doge and shield yourself. There you would be hoping either for the attacker to mess up or for help to arrive."

"Very good, anything else?" Lupin said to the class.

"You can also run or use magic to get away from the fight."

"Excellent, Mr Weasley."

"Or you can avoid the fight altogether by not being there, or by talking your enemy down."

"A valid point, Miss Granger. Anything else?"

The class looked stumped for a while and he was about to begin again when Harry raised his hand.

"Yes Ha-Mr Potter?"

"Sir, you can combine a few or all of these tactics together to protect yourself."

The professor smiled broadly, "And that class, is the underlying strategy wizard's have used for centuries. No tactic will work everywhere but by combining a few you should be able to adequately defend yourself and others. Any more than that...well, you'll have to wait for Year 5."

The class chuckled and then buckled down to work. Today they were reviewing the main threats to themselves and others. The majority of the list was made up of beasts, but there were also-

"Centaurs are, above all else, stoic and aloof. They rarely give wizards any thought and that is certainly a good thing; their archery skills are formidable and if you stray into their forests, you would be hard pressed to stay alive if they meant you ill."

Ron was a big help in this lesson. Whilst Hermione had read Scamander, he had grown up knowing all about dangerous creatures in wizard stories, myths and legends. There were obvious ones like dragons and chimeras that Harry had heard of but a few were very...unusual. The three would have made more progress were it not for their keen eye for detail...

"Sea Serpents obviously aren't a threat on land but if we happened to come across one at sea..."

"Why are we at sea, Ron?"

"I dunno, Sirius bought a yacht? Anyway-"

"Why would he buy a yacht? He hates water."

"Look, it doesn't matter why we are there."

"Be fair Ron, if we were on a fishing boat or a battleship, the way the fight goes would obviously change."

"We're on a fishing boat. Why the heck would we be on a warship?"

"Why are we on a fishing boat?"

And so on.

"Right, for next week, I want your completed lists of dangerous foes and reasons why they are dangerous, along with at least three bullet points on how to deal with each one. Thank you!"

The class chattered as they went out of the room, rather satisfied about the dramatic increase in quality of their class.

"Not bad Professor," Harry said as the last student went out.

"I thank you Harry, but I thought we decided it was 'Moony' outside of lessons?"

"I'm still in your classroom, sir."

"True," Moony said with a grin. "Did I forget anything you can think of?"

"Umm...I think you forgot to award points but that's about it," Harry answered honestly.

"Argh, House Points!" Moony said, hand going to his forehead.

"Yes...but let's be honest, they aren't the most important thing in the world."

"You're just saying that because you get one hundred points every time you win a Quidditch match."

"...Quite possibly."

Both laughed after that.

* * *

"All in all, not a bad day. Not too shabby."

Ron stared at his best mate as if he had grown a second head.

"Uh, yeah...we just got assigned homework from every teacher! Not short ones either, it could take hours!"

"Uh yeah..." Hermione said, imitating Ron's voice, "We have a week to do most of them and we can do some tonight."

"Ah, now I remember why whenever I read I hear your voice."

"Oh...thank you," Hermione said, grinning slightly.

"That wasn't a compliment. _Ron_!" he said, in a high pitched voice, "_slice your gazelle gizzard lengthways and not sideways. _I think I might need counselling."

Dean and Seamus' guffaws nearby were quickly muffled as Hermione dusted off her 'Death Glare' face and pointed it at Ron.

"I'm...going to the lavatory," Harry said, half rising out of his armchair before Hermione whirled around.

"Oh right, why would anyone want MY help. I'm just the miserable old bookworm who gets in the way of everyone's FUN!" and with that she ran upstairs and out of sight.

Silence reigned in the Common Room.

"Oh...crap. Sorry Harry, I didn't mean-" Ron started, going red and looking furious with himself.

"No, I think you should be apologising to Hermione," Harry cut him off quickly, "But for what it's worth, that wasn't all your fault."

"She's still a bit insecure over this 'friend' malarkey, isn't she?" Fred asked with concern in his voice.

Harry nodded with a bit of a lump in his throat. Hermione _had_ seemed comfortable at his house over summer but...he didn't know. Maybe he was wrong?

_'I am so bad at this stuff,'_ he thought dejectedly.

"Harry, please don't let her stew up there alone," Pavarti said softly, causing both boys to stand up, each slightly ashamed they hadn't earlier.

Looking at each other awkwardly, they then started towards the stairs.

"Wait...you won't be able to go up without a girl holding onto you," George called out from the settee.

"How do you know...never mind, stupid question," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Err...maybe I should stay down here," Ron said, looking uncertainly at the stairs.

"Ah, a true inspiration from our family," Fred said lightly.

"Well I'd much prefer to hold Harry's hand than his," Lavender and Pavarti said simultaneously.

"Oi!"

"Right...er...shall we?" Harry said.

Pavarti and Lavender (for good measure) took his hands and led him upstairs.

"It's probably best if we wait downstairs. Call if you need to come down."

"Thanks girls."

"Any time Harry. _Any_ time," Lavender said smiling, leaving Harry frowning in the direction of the top of the stairs for a moment.

Now...where was Hermione?

**Author's Note**

**I went away for a little while and actually thought out how the overall story arc would work, so progress on this chapter was slow. Rest assured, I know now where I am going with this and the little hints and background plots are going to be more focused from now on. I've also refined the Horcrux hunt, figured out what to do with Draco Malfoy and determined that at least some people are going to die. Those scenes are going to be tough to write, I can tell.**

**Anyway, I am back! Thank you for reading and please, review and comment if you can.**


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